


Looking for a rhythm like you

by cherryvanilla



Category: Actor RPF, Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Harlequin, Romance, Trope Subversion, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wait, he wants me to what?” Kristen asks, eyes wide, certain she’s heard incorrectly.</p><p>“It’s his wish for you to take over the company,” the lawyer repeats and nope, not wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've come apart and you made me

**Author's Note:**

> This is based very, very loosely on a harlequin AU prompt I'd seen back in Inception fandom years ago, which came from [this](http://www.amazon.com/Riding-Waves-Tawny-Weber/dp/0373795688) novel. However, it's a complete subversion of tropes as there's no way I'd write KStew in this type of setting if I weren't indulging all Harlequin-esque tropes and then turning them on their head. 
> 
> Huge thanks to shaded_sun for giving me invaluable suggestions back when I was really struggling in the middle of this thing and to Zan and sesame_seed for beta. Additional thanks to sesame_seed for the text on the graphic <3 
> 
> Title from Air Supply because you cannot write something like this without a super cheesy song inspired title. Chapter titles from CHRVCHES and Rilo Kiley. I had a ridiculously long playlist while writing this. Here is a highly scaled down [mix](http://8tracks.com/sometimesalways/looking-for-a-rhythm-like-you), if that should interest you.
> 
> cover art: 

Kristen has the reputation of being the black sheep in her family. She’s the kid that ran off to London - after college didn’t give her what she was looking for - and bummed around Europe with her boyfriend, staying far too long in a relationship that wasn’t really giving her what she wanted to begin with. Her family has this impression that she just doesn’t give a shit, yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. Kristen gives a shit, just not about the things they want her to care about.

She’s never been one to really slack off, not _really_ – she can remember wanting to do well in like, kindergarten. She’s always felt this air of maturity – that she’s essentially been the adult, ever since she was a kid. Sometimes it was like she was caring more for her older brothers than her mom was. Yet all because she hasn’t been interested in the family business it’s like she’s chopped liver.

Her grandpa has run a fashion magazine for the past fifty years. It slowly expanded, grew into something renowned and respected, evolved with ever changing technology and embraced a web presence. Kristen enjoys fashion, she really does, but she doesn’t put much thought into it. It’s always come natural to her – she likes to be comfortable, likes to wear what she wants and put things together. She never knows what she’s going to wear until ten minutes before she leaves her house, honestly. 

The fact that her sense of style does come so effortlessly incensed her family all the more. They looked at it like a slap in the face.

Her life isn’t perfect but it doesn’t exactly suck. Kristen moved back to LA about six months ago after spending some time in New York and is currently rooming with her best friend Suzie. She’s got a few gigs teaching guitar lessons and she works part-time at a diner, having to plaster on a smile to serve people food even though most of her customers are pretentious douchebags. Whatever, she’s in a transition period, until she can figure out exactly what she wants to do.

And then her grandpa dies.  
________________________________

“Wait, he wants me to what?” Kristen asks, eyes wide, certain she’s heard incorrectly.

“It’s his wish for you to take over the company,” the lawyer repeats and nope, not wrong.

There’s a few seconds of stunned silence followed by a mess of commotion, with her brothers protesting loudly and her parents flat out confused.

“Did he say why?” her mom asks, throwing her a concerned look.

“Just that he loves his business and he loves her and he wants her understand what was such a big part of his life.”

The room falls completely silent again after that, a somber edge replacing the prior pettiness. Kristen wants to protest – wants to say this feels like some ridiculous 1950s bullshit here, but – 

But she looks towards her parents and their eyes are shining, the sting of losing him still so palpable – regardless of the good, long life he lived. Regardless of the fact that he worked, right up until the end, even though he could’ve retired twenty years ago.

Kristen still thinks she knows responsibility – still doesn’t think she’s flippant or not driven. She’s just driven in different ways. But – maybe it’s not about that. Maybe it’s the fact that she detached herself, so superficially, from something that made her grandfather happy.

“I want to,” Kristen says quietly, heart in her throat.

Everyone stares at her like she’s grown another head.

“I want to do this,” she repeats, louder.

And she does – she – she owes it to him. Maybe she even owes it to herself. It’ll be a good learning experience, if nothing else. It very well could teach her she wants nothing to _do_ with any of this and she was right all along but she’s gotta keep an open mind at this point. And hell, who knows, maybe she’ll enjoy it.  
________________________________

Kristen doesn’t enjoy it. She doesn’t even remotely enjoy it. To begin with, she’s forced to wear a pants suit because she needs to make a good impression on her staff and no way is she wearing a dress unless it’s like, a work event. So yeah, she’s now CEO and editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine and she needs to make a statement and no one even realizes she’s the worst person to make that statement when she still forgets to put on socks with her dress shoes, since she’s so used to throwing on a pair of Converse and nothing underneath.

On top of that she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to act and decides pretty early on to just – be firm and detached. Not exactly act like she doesn’t give a fuck, but also keep herself pretty removed from things and try not to let on she’s not exactly an expert here. She knows enough to hold her own on the fashion end, but it’s the administrative shit that she’s completely floundering at. It’s not like she’s ever actually had a desk job before. She should’ve known her behavior would result in people just writing her off as a bitch, a conversation she overheard in the hallway one morning.

“Seriously, she’s like Meryl Streep in _The Devil Wears Prada_ ,” the intern continued. Kristen has serious issues with a) a strong woman being written off as a ‘bitch’ and b) Streep’s character being looked at as anything but awesome, so suffice to say that intern was on her way out by the end of the day. And suffice to say all the other interns look at her like she’s Maleficent now.

It isn’t long before she’s getting migraines every night, putting cucumber strips on her eyes while Suzie laughs at her, and regretting the choice with every fibre of her being.

“Nothing you’re trying is helping you, you realize that.”

“I know,” Kristen groans.

“So you clearly need to get laid,” Suzie says decisively.

“Ha,” Kristen says. That’s a real laugh. Like she even has any _time_ for that. Shit, she’s been wound so tight these past two months she’s barely even been into getting _herself_ off. And so it’s been – a really long time because it’s not like she and Rob were fucking by the end of everything and it’s not like she’s had any rebound sex since they ended.

Suzie shrugs. “Just sayin’, it couldn’t _hurt_.”

“Thanks,” Kristen sighs sarcastically and sits up, taking the cucumber slices off her eyes and downing the rest of her wine.

Whatever, she can handle this.  
________________________________

_one month later_

She can’t handle this. Between being bombarded with phone calls, since the intern she got fired was also supposed to be helping her with office shit, trying to figure out budget drama, overseeing a ton of website problems and emails, she’s completely burnt out. 

“I want you to take a vacation.” Kristen’s head snaps up and she blinks at her mom, who is standing there like it’s completely ordinary for her to be in Kristen’s office at 3:47 on a Thursday. She may be the Vice President of the company, but it’s honestly more of an honorary title. Still, she’s on the board of directors and so Kristen _does_ technically report to her as CEO. 

“Uh,” Kristen says, fully aware she’d just had her head down and was massaging her temples after yet another argument with the web design team over the layout for the week’s digital feature. It’s way too fucking pink, in her opinion. They disagree. “I’m fine?”

It sounds unbelievable, even to her own ears.

“Bullshit."

Kristen sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Mom? I can roll with this. Besides, Fashion Week isn’t all that far off.”

“And you’ll deal it with when you come back. I want you to get on a plane, lie on a beach, not think about anything, and come back refreshed and ready to run this place without terrifying any more interns.”

Kristen flushes. “I don’t terrify anyone,” she mumbles.

Her mom crosses her arms over her chest, looking a little terrifying herself, but also as flawless as ever. “Well from what I hear you don’t exactly make them feel comfortable either, and you don’t even really have to say anything – it just happens.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just my face,” Kristen says, picking at her nails. 

“Honey I love you, but get lost, okay?”

Kristen sighs. She doesn’t want this to be another instance of her mom being disappointed in her or something, but she _could_ use a breather, that’s true. She hasn’t worked like this, had this much responsibility over something in – well, ever. She runs an entire magazine and website and a _company_ , really, and it’s just – a little terrifying. And she definitely has the money to take a vacation, given her new salary. Her family’s always been well-off but Kristen’s never accepted handouts and any checks she received from her grandparents for her birthday she’d immediately invest in stock.

“And when you come back, you’ll have some help,” her mom is saying.

Kristen shakes herself out of her thoughts. “Huh?”

“One of the writers from the New York office is transferring in. He wanted a more corporate role in addition to coverage, so he’ll be your executive assistant as well.”

Kristen frowns. “What’s wrong with the interns?”

Her mom gives her a fond look. “Sweetheart, I just told you – you’ve scared them all away after you apparently fired that one girl.”

Kristen groans inwardly. “She was a jerk!” Whatever, people need to get thicker skins.

“Take at least a week. Maybe ten days. Have fun!” she calls over her shoulder, heels tapping loudly across the floor as she walks out of Kristen’s office. 

Kristen drops her head in her hands and wonders when she lost all control of her life.  
________________________________

Suzie can’t get away and none of Kristen's other friends can really afford a vacation so she's flying solo, literally. Which is fine, she'll welcome the quiet. Kristen decides on Punta Cana since she's never been and she’s heard good things. Her suite is beautiful and the water is even more so. She doesn't really have many plans to actually do things. While she's into a lot back home, here she just wants to chill. The hotel pool and hot tub are nice retreats and she swims in the ocean a bit, but mostly she lies on the beach and tries to improve her tan. 

There's a guy on the beach that she's seen for the past two days now. The first time he was snorkeling and she laughed to herself at how ridiculous he looked even though he had abs and ass that would make Jesus weep. She’d been listening to her iPod and Jenny Lewis was singing about when talking leads to touching and touching leads to sex and yeah, Kristen’s thoughts definitely had gone to some dirty places. 

Today she forgot her iPod and therefore has no soundtrack while she watches him surf, mouth quirking upward when he nearly wipes out at one point. Kristen is sort of lost in thought watching him that she doesn't realize she's still staring by the time he’s walked onto the sand, shaking his hair and looking like some Greek god. His body is toned, tan and basically hairless except for a small strip of light hair running down his chest, right above the waistband of his swim suit, which is black, a little tight, and certainly not leaving all that much to the imagination. 

He blinks and then shoots her a small smile. Kristen flushes immediately, stomach tensing, feeling like an idiot for staring. 

She watches his smile widen a bit more before he walks off in the direction of the board rentals. She tells herself she isn't disappointed and dog-ears her book, before leaning back and closing her eyes. 

“Mind if I sit here?” Kristen hears a few minutes later and squints upward to find Greek God himself, looking down at her with a crooked smile and even more crooked teeth. She clears her throat and waves to the chair next to her. 

“‘S all yours, man.” 

His smile grows even more crooked and he drags a hand through his shaggy, still mostly wet hair. “Thanks. I'm Johnny.”

He holds out her hand and that kind of politeness takes Kristen aback.

“Kristen,” she says, eying his hand skeptically. She, like, never shakes people's hands outside of business meetings. She puts her hand in his, and bites her lip when she feels a jolt right up her arm. 

He tilts his head at her, like he's trying to figure out what she's thinking. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she replies before pulling away. 

He settles in the chair, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. Kristen's eyes linger on his thighs for a moment. 

“Beautiful here, eh?” he says, nodding to the water.

Kristen hums and then laughs. “You Canadian or something, _eh_?”

He turns to her. “Yep.”

Kristen's mouth drops open. “I was joking!”

Johnny laughs. “I guess I'm a walking stereotype.”

Kristen laughs too. “I guess so, dude.”

“And you're from... California, _dude_?”

Kristen glares. “Everyone says dude,” she mutters. 

He just looks at her smugly, waiting.

“Okay, yeah I am.”

Johnny laughs brightly. “Cool, I’m–” he cuts himself off abruptly. “Uh, so, what brings you here?”

Kristen eyes him curiously before shrugging. “Needed to get away. You?”

“Vacation before I start my new job.”

She drops her sunglasses down as its getting harder to see, plus it lets her stare undetected at the drop of water that's slowly sliding down his chest.

“Sounds nice. You alone?”

“Yeah. Was kind of an impromptu gift to myself before I throw myself back into work. Didn't really fit with anyone else's schedules.”

Kristen smiles a little to herself. “Same, man. Although this wasn't really my idea.”

“A vacation wasn't your idea?” asks Johnny, amused. 

Kristen shrugs again, shifting upward and bending her knees to her chin. “New job is kicking my ass a little,” she replies, leaving it vague, thinking it’ll sound kind of pathetic if she mentions her mom’s part in it. This dude will probably think she still lives at home and depends on her parents or something.

Johnny just hums. “Well, I hope it can give you what you need.” It's a cheesy thing to say, yet he sounds completely sincere. In that moment she decides he's good people. 

They talk a bit more, about the place mainly and what they've gotten up to so far. Johnny’s basically done everything under the sun in two days and Kristen feels like a beach bum, but whatever. And then Kristen's stomach growls.

Johnny laughs and Kristen flushes. “Shut up, dick.” She shoves at his stupidly big arm. It surprises her because it usually takes her longer to open up around new people, yet she’s already insulting him like she’d do her friends. 

He holds up his hands. “I said nothing.”

They grin at each other stupidly and Kristen’s breath catches in her throat at his wide, open smile. 

“What time is it anyway?” he asks, squinting at the sun as if he can read by it or something.

Kristen shakes her head, feeling oddly charmed.

“Little after 5,” she says after digging her phone out of her bag.

She watches him chew on his lip thoughtfully and a thrill shoots through her.

“Would you, uh," Johnny starts, scratching at the back of his head. "Like to join me for dinner?

Kristen feels a bloom of giddiness spread through her chest. It's been… well it’s been way too long since a dude asked her something like that. It's just nice, is all.

Still, she plays it cool.

“Sure, lemme go put some clothes on first, though?” she says, gesturing to her bikini.

And okay, she could have played it a lot cooler than that but it's incredibly satisfying to watch the way his throat works as he swallows, eyes almost unbiddingly falling to her stomach before shooting up to her face again.

“Uh, yeah. That'd be good.”

Kristen laughs.

Johnny clears his throat. “I like your tattoos,” he says, nodding to her forearm and wrist. 

“Thanks, man,” Kristen grins, looking at them. 

“What are they?” 

Kristen holds out her wrist. “Well this one is for Black Flag. Got it with a bunch of my friends.” 

“What’s that?” 

Kristen stares at him. “Seriously? I can tell our music conversation is going to be interesting.” 

Johnny flushes. “Whatever.” 

“ _Anyway_ , this,” she holds up the back of her wrist, revealing the infinity sign, “I got with my friends, too. Kind of just symbolizing how we’ll always be there for each other.” 

Johnny smiles softly and it catches her off guard. 

“Cheesy, I know,” Kristen says sardonically before pointing to her forearm, “And this one I just really loved the image. No real reason.” 

“Cool,” Johnny says. “So, there's a nice restaurant at my hotel…”

Oh, right. Dinner. 

“Where are you staying?” 

“The Puntacana Resort and Club. Great golf,” Johnny grins.

Kristen points behind her and to the right. “I'm at Tortuga Bay. Which restaurant, then?”

“La Yola. Meet me there at 7?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They get up and he does this little aborted motion like he's not sure what to do right now, before raising his hand in a wave and walking down the beach, backwards at first.

Kristen smiles so hard, glad he still can't see her eyes and heads up the boardwalk, suddenly really excited.

Once back in her room, she takes a shower and tries to figure out her outfit. She has no idea if this place is fancy and she didn't really bring anything. She could wear the one dress she bought but… she wants this dude to know her for who she is.

So she opts for a dark pair of jeans and a white shirt that falls off her shoulder, which she ties up around her stomach, with a black bra beneath it, Converse and no socks. Her mom used to give her shit about wearing black bras with white shirts, telling her there’s a reason they’re worn beneath the clothes but whatever, Kristen enjoys it and she has no problem if people look at her oddly because of it. 

She leaves her hair down and does a little bit of makeup, but nothing excessive since that’s not her either. She supposes on vacations like this you’re maybe _not_ supposed to be yourself but that’s not really something she’s interested in, regardless of everything else going on in her life right now. 

The sun is setting a little as she walks along Bavaro Beach, alongside the restaurant. She sees Johnny standing at the top of the steps that lead up to the outside dining area and freezes. He's wearing a nice pair of slacks and deep blue button up shirt, undone at the collar. Shit. 

His face falls a second when he sees her and she feels like a moron. He recovers quickly though, smiling as she climbs the steps.

“Hi,” he says warmly. 

“I'm so sorry, dude. I didnt know it was fancy and shit, let me go change.” Kristen says it all in a rush, feels the awkward self-consciousness settle in her belly. 

Johnny shakes his head. “No, you look great. It's my fault, really.” 

Kristen narrows her eyes at him. “Why?” 

Johnny opens his mouth and then closes it immediately. “Nothing.” He turns to the hostess, smiling. “Ready now,” he says, charming as ever and Kristen feels a wave of jealousy crash over her. Which is ridiculous. 

They get a table right against the railing with a perfect view of the water and slowly setting sun.

“This is cool,” Kristen says.

Johnny nods. “Do you want some wine?”

“Yeah, sure. You pick.”

He does, a French white and says its name perfectly.

“You speak it?” Kristen asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I do. My mom is from Quebec, taught my brother and I Quebecois pretty early on.”

“Not you, though?” She files the brother thing away for further conversation – it’s important to conserve the topics on dates, she finds, otherwise you could be sitting there in uncomfortable silences because you’ve shot your wad too early. 

Johnny shakes his head. “No, Manitoba.”

“You live there, then?”

“No, actually. Been in the States for years.”

“Sweet.”

The waiter comes, inquiring if they're ready. 

“Do you want to start with something?” asks Johnny. 

Kristen scans the menu, which she’s largely ignored thus far. “Um, the sea conch? Wanna share it?” 

“Sounds good,” Johnny replies.

They take a few moments to sip their wine and study the menu thoroughly. 

“I figured we might end up doing seafood, hence the white,” Johnny says conversationally. 

Kristen hums. “Makes sense.” She's thinking of the Pompano fish, personally.

“I can't decide between the mahi mahi or the lobster,” Johnny says two minutes later, sounding so hilariously frustrated.

Kristen considers that. “You got a coin?” 

It’s something her grandfather used to always do, with Kristen and her brothers. If one of them wanted to go for ice cream but the other one wanted candy, he’d just pull out a coin and decide it that way, saying the coin ruled supreme. Her mouth curves into a smile at the memory. 

Johnny raises an eyebrow but digs a quarter out of his wallet nevertheless.

Kristen takes it, ignoring the way their fingers brush, how it's a complete electric spark, straight to her core.

“Heads mahi, tails lobster. Okay?”

Johnny blinks at her, mouth a little open. “Um. Sure.”

She tosses it up, then slaps it on the back of her palm. “Tails.” 

Johnny smiles at her and takes the coin back, studying it. “Huh. Maybe I should make all my decisions this way.” 

Kristen pats herself on the back smugly and they grin at one another until the waiter returns with their appetizer.  
________________________________

The food is pretty stellar and Johnny's company is even more so. He keeps up a nice flow of conversation, talking animatedly about things he's passionate about while still managing to have a quiet, slightly awkward way about him. Personally, it reminds Kristen a lot of herself. They've gotten into a pretty steady conversation about their hobbies, Kristen admitting she does as many outdoor activities as she can back home, including running, swimming, and biking. 

“Can’t really stand working out in a gym, actually. I’d rather be outside.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, I plan on doing a lot of things outdoors in the next few months but I really do enjoy a gym. My building had one and it was great.”

Kristen snorts. “I bet you're a pretty intense workout guy.”

Johnny blushes a little, which is a weird mix between adorable and really fucking attractive. 

“Yeah, I can get pretty into it.” His voice is a little rough and Kristen vaguely wonders what he sounds like sweaty and out of breath.

“There're a lot of cool things to do here, though. I've been trying out stuff I always wanted to. Like the surfing. And I did wakeboarding yesterday.”

Kristen spears the last of her fish onto her fork. “Haven't done much of anything, like I said earlier.” 

There's a pause for a moment and when Kristen looks up from her plate, Johnny’s chewing on his bottom lip. “I could uh, show you tomorrow? If you're interested.”

Something stutters in her chest and her pulse quickens. Kristen recovers by smirking at him.

“With you as teacher, man? I'll probably drown.”

“Hey now,” Johnny says reproachfully. Kristen laughs at the injured look of his face.

“Please, bud, I saw you wipe out today. You fucking ate shit so hard.”

Johnny flushes again and Kristen finds it nothing but sexy this time, zeroes in on his cheekbones and the strong cut of his jaw, obviously freshly shaven.

Johnny opens his mouth, clearly about to protest and then a slow, satisfied smile stretches across his lips. “You were watching me?” His voice is teasing, flirty. 

Now it's Kristen's turn to flush. She puts her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm. “Yeah, well, hard not to watch that train wreck,” she says dryly, laughing a little into her hand, trying to mask the awkwardness she feels at him knowing. 

“Uh-huh,” he says knowingly, leaning back in his chair, all broad shoulders and tan skin gleaming beneath his collar. 

Kristen’s surprised when he admits, “I noticed you, too,” voice quiet. 

“Yeah?” Kristen asks, feeling stupidly giddy.

Johnny opens his mouth, but the waiter comes then to gather their plates. 

They look at the dessert menu and decide to split an order of amaretto infused chocolate covered strawberries. The atmosphere has shifted to a sort of tension, heavy and palpable. They don't do more than size one another up and comment on their meal before the dessert arrives. 

Johnny pours Kristen some more wine and they each grab a strawberry. Watching him eat it is ridiculously hot and she needs to look away, happy that when she meets his eyes again his pupils are a little blown.

When the check arrives, Johnny tries to pay and Kristen refuses.

“Come on man, no. That's not necessary.”

Johnny frowns a little. “I know. I want to? Unless, uh.” He drags his hand over the back of his head. “Ah, jeez.” 

“What?” Kristen asks frowning.

“I just. I mean, I kind of intended – or well, _hoped_ , for this to be a date. That's why – well, when I saw you didn't dress up I sort of assumed you were just looking at this as a friend thing but then I thought maybe… anyway, I’m really sorry if I read this all wrong.”

It’s an awkward, mumbled ramble at best and Kristen lets out a surprised laugh. “Dude, it's not that. I just like, don't normally dress up.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, sounding a little pleased and taking a sip of his water.

Kristen laughs again, shaking her head at how fond she feels over his sudden insecurity.

“And like, as for paying? That’s never really meant much to me. I think it's kind of an archaic concept, actually. You paying or me paying or us splitting it doesn't make it any less of a date.”

Johnny's eyes light up at that. “So it's a date, huh?” he asks, lowly.

Kristen feels butterflies in her stomach and smiles through them, a little shakily.

“Yeah, it's a date.”  
________________________________

They wind up splitting the check and going for a walk along the beach. It’s a perfect night, with the mildest of breezes. Sometime during their walk they must have gravitated towards one another because now their arms are brushing with every step. Johnny’s telling her a story about how he once convinced his brother there was a shark in the ocean and promptly terrified the entire beach to the point of near evacuation. 

“Oh my god, you’re a douchebag.” 

“I was twelve,” he replies easily, shrugging one shoulder. 

Kristen fake coughs around the word ‘douchebag’, making him laugh and nudge at her shoulder with his bicep. It sends a jolt of want right through her. 

She figures she might as well ask the sibling question now, since they got through a few hours without it. He only has one and his name’s David, two years Johnny’s junior. They seem to be pretty close, even though they don’t see one another often. Kristen tells Johnny about her brothers, and how two of them are adopted, sort of skirting around what kind of relationships they have. They definitely aren’t the same as Johnny and David’s. 

They swap a few more terrible childhood stories, laughing loudly as the waves crash around them. Before she knows it they’re standing in front of her resort. 

“Oh,” Kristen says blinking. “This is me.” 

Johnny nods, jerkily. He’s wearing sandals with his outfit (which she’d totally call him on except she really can’t talk given what she showed up in) and she watches him shift on his feet, kicking at the sand between them a bit. 

“I had a really nice time.” 

Kristen smiles slowly. “Me too, man.”

Their eyes meet and hold, Kristen’s breath stuttering in her chest. She watches Johnny lick his lips. 

“So, surfing tomorrow?” she asks when it’s obvious he isn’t going to say something. 

His eyes widen a little. “Uh, yeah? You wanna?”

Kristen shrugs. “Why not. You’re still in one piece so…” 

He rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha.” 

Kristen laughs loudly, grinning broadly as their eyes lock again. 

“Meet you on the beach near the rentals around 10?”

Kristen nods. “Sounds good.” 

There’s a pause as they regard one another again. 

“Well, goodnight,” Johnny says, watching her carefully. 

“Night,” Kristen whispers, hoping her body language indicates she’d be up for a kiss, but she’s honestly not sure if its inviting or not. It’s been way too long since she’s done this and her shoulders feel tense. 

Johnny either reads something in her gaze or he’s just a rebel that way because he moves in slowly, so slow that she could easily nope right out of this. Lucky for them both she has no intention of that and then his lips are on her own, soft and plush with the barest hint of pressure. He pulls back right as she’s about to slip him some tongue, feeling breathless already just from the brief contact, her body on fire. 

Johnny reaches up and strokes his thumb and forefinger over her jaw, lightly, making her tremble a little. “Goodnight,” he says again, smiling softly, eyes shining. 

“Yeah,” Kristen stutters out, and watching him as he walks away, loving the way his slacks cling to his ass. 

Back in her room she jerks off for the first time in forever, thumbing her clit and fingering her pussy as the sensation of his lips washes over her in waves. She comes while picturing fucking herself on his dick, his big hands cupping her tits, sliding down her torso and holding her hips in place. It’s the best orgasm she’s had in years and she feels boneless and breathless afterward.  
________________________________

Kristen arrives on the beach at 9:55am and Johnny’s already there, leaning against the wooden structure of the rental hut, practically naked with a towel slung over his shoulder and a backwards hat on. Kristen swallows. When he spots her his face cracks open into a slow, happy grin. 

"Hi," Johnny says warmly when Kristen walks over.

“Hey,” Kristen responds, looking up at him. She'd love to say ‘fuck it, let’s go back to my room and screw’ but one) she actually isn’t that forward and two) he's already smiling again and pushing off the wall and towards the guy inside the booth. 

They get out in the water and it's a lot of fun. Johnny's actually is a pretty good teacher and Kristen only wipes out once, which leads to a wrestling match in the water with her hands all over his slick skin. They plop down on beach chairs afterward, out of breath and grinning, the energy in the air completely charged yet also playful.

They relax for a few minutes, taking in the sun before managing to pull themselves up and grab lunch at the outside dining area of Bamboo, at Kristen's hotel. 

"You're a quick learner," Johnny finally says, voice impressed. He smirks. “Much faster than I was.” 

"If you're looking for me to say I've got a great teacher you can keep on waiting, buddy. Don't need to pump you up any more."

Johnny frowns, holding his heart. "Wounded. Right here."

“I'm sure,” Kristen snorts, knocking her ankle against his and almost gasping when he tangles their feet together, brushing his bare toes against her leg. 

Kristen smiles through her surprise and they spend the rest of lunch playing footsie with one other like teenagers while talking about other places they've traveled. 

They've stayed away from job talk thus far and Kristen's grateful for that. So when Johnny asks ‘what she does exactly’, all innocent curiosity while on their way to her hotel pool, Kristen squashes that topic pretty quickly. 

“I'm here to escape, man, so how about we just do that, huh?”

She levels him with a meaningful look and watches him swallow and nod slowly, as if he gets everything she's implying right now.

“Yeah. Yeah, why don’t we.” 

It's on after that – the kind of steady flirtation wherein both people know exactly where this is headed, and that it's only a matter of time before they get there. 

They go for a leisurely swim in the pool that is more a tease than anything else, drifting into one another and playfully splashing, all while keeping up a pretty steady stream of conversation. 

Johnny is super easy to talk to and Kristen can't remember the last time she had this much fun, or the last time she wanted someone with an almost animalistic desire. 

After they’ve laid out on the chairs by the pool, not so subtly checking one another out, Kristen decides maybe it’s time she take Johnny on an excursion of her own. She excuses herself, goes up to her room to throw on some denim capris and then heads to the concierge desk to rent the complimentary bikes that come with her stay. A phone call is placed and Kristen’s told where she needs to go. She slides her sunglasses down onto her face and walks out to Johnny. 

“Bike ride?” she asks, standing over him, grinning. He sits up and tilts his head. 

“You’re on.” 

They head to where the bikes are on the other side of the resort and start down Playa Serena. Kristen had a feeling Johnny would try to make a competition out of it and sure enough a few minutes in he grins over at her and says, “Race ya?” 

Kristen bikes a fuckton back home so she’s pretty confident she’s got this. But apparently Johnny must too because he’s right there with her. Kristen has no fucking idea how many miles they do but she was in no way prepared for him being able to keep up this long, and eventually she has to admit defeat and suggest they turn back. She’s also sweaty and gross and in no way attractive right now. 

He laughs when they stutter to a stop. “Aww, c’mon, you can do more.” 

Kristen glares at him beneath her sunglasses. “I look like ass, man. I’m done. And I’m doing a snail’s pace back.” 

“I think you look great,” he says, sounding completely sincere. She’d think he was even blushing if his face weren’t red to begin with. 

Kristen brushes her bangs off her forehead. “Alright, loverboy, whatever you say. Let’s go, huh?” 

They take it slow on the way back and it’s nice, just soaking up the scenery they missed by zooming past it earlier. They also get a chance to talk more, aside from taunts of “I’m gonna mop the floor with you” and “eat my dust.” 

Johnny likes to talk about his family. He clearly loves them and it's heartwarming to hear how close he is with them, while also making her a tad envious. She definitely loves her family, she just wishes they weren't so wrapped up in material things. That isn't her speed, no matter how much money she's now making.

Johnny's family seems exactly the opposite: his dad's an electrician and his mom is a mortgage broker at a credit union. They live modestly and have tried to afford any type of education their kids desired. 

By the time they get back to the hotel it's just about time for dinner. Kristen has no idea if they're gonna continue hanging out and shuffles awkwardly after they return the bikes, until Johnny says, "So, uh, not too far up the beach is this place called Jellyfish. I looked it up, supposed to be good. If you're interested?”

Kristen is.

“Let’s change and meet you back here?”

“Sounds good,” Kristen says, curling her toes inside her Converse. “Ugh, man, I’m such a California kid. Always forgetting to wear socks. Totally gonna have blisters.” 

Johnny opens his mouth, before snapping it shut. “Yeah, uh. ‘Kay, I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Kristen frowns a little, wondering what he was thinking about, before going upstairs to shower and change. She decides to wear the damn dress this time since she _did_ pack it and now’s as good a time as any. He’s already seen her in her normal get-up anyway so it’s not like she’s selling him some false impression. Johnny meets Kristen outside her hotel and she enjoys the way his eyes travel down her body to her bare legs and open-toe shoes.

He looks good, in dark jeans this time and a multicolored plaid button down, open at the collar again because apparently he's just an asshole like that. 

“You look beautiful,” Johnny says softly and Kristen gets the feeling she's being courted or something. She's actually never really experienced that before. She and Rob were friends first and just sort of fell into a puppy love romance, and there hasn't been much since. Before him there were one or two guys but nothing serious.

Kristen barely knows this dude, despite how much they've been talking, yet she likes the fantasy of it all. The whirlwind dime store novel eroticism of the handsome stranger and a hot one night stand. Except she's definitely hoping for more than one night (here on this island anyway) before real life claims her again.

"Thanks, you look pretty sharp yourself." Kristen replies, trying to keep it casual. He grins and they fall into step. Kristen isn't really expecting Johnny's hand to find her own, despite this whole weird courting thing, but she still curls her fingers into his when it does, smiling to herself. 

Dinner is even more comfortable than the night before, with a different buzz surrounding them – like they’ve gotten over the initial “first date” jitters and clearly know where their interests lie and where they’d like this to go (a bed, presumably). Kristen isn’t really interested in much else, to be honest. She likes this dude, she’s not gonna lie, but there is no way she’s up for both a new job _and_ a long distance relationship.  
She suddenly realizes she doesn’t know where Johnny lives. She knows he’s relocated for his job, but his current – or future – location has remained unknown. She’s actually completely okay with that. It adds to the intrigue of it all.

They talk a lot about movies and music and sports teams and that’s fine with Kristen. She’s always been the kind of person who feels things in common are important but she also doesn’t want it to feel like she’s dating herself. Therefore she loves that Johnny would rather watch a romantic comedy than a horror film and would pick country over rock any day of the week, regardless of how wrong she thinks he is. She’s completely the opposite and it definitely gives them a lot of room for argument, but she’d still take them clashing like this, instead of completely agreeing, in a heartbeat.

Plus it’s super entertaining to see Johnny’s face scrunch up when Kristen insults the ‘good name’ of country music, to wind him up and watch him fume. He ends up getting so intense, trying to bite back his words only to end up gritting out, “You’re just so _wrong_ ,” like her opinions physically pain him. Kristen just laughs and laughs. 

And the way Johnny grins at her over dessert, catching her eye and reaching over to stroke the inside of her wrist, tells her he isn’t too annoyed by the teasing. In fact it’s possible he even enjoys it a little. 

Kristen’s pretty loose from both the wine and the after-dinner cordial that she doesn’t even protest when Johnny reaches for the bill. After all, she paid for lunch when his back was turned. 

They walk back to the hotel, slowly, Johnny’s hand in hers the entire time. It sends a thrill right to her core. 

“So, there’s a private strip of beach, just for Tortuga Bay guests. You wanna?” Kristen asks, waggling her eyebrows in challenge when they approach the hotel. 

“Sure,” Johnny says, and she’s sure she hasn’t imagined the catch in his breath. 

Kristen hasn’t exactly been there yet, but it’s just as secluded as she expected and at this hour there’s actually no one even there. They walk along the beach where the ocean meets the sand, kicking off their shoes and a wading through the still-warm water. It’s pretty gorgeous in the moonlight and the gentle crash of the waves. 

“I’m glad I came here,” Johnny says, just as Kristen feels the silence getting a little oppressive. 

She turns to look at him, takes in the cut of his jaw, the almost pensive look on his face. 

“Yeah?” 

He meets her eyes, dead-on, and the openness of his gaze, the pure _want_ there almost makes her gasp. 

“Absolutely,” he says, voice a little fierce. 

Kristen squeezes his hand and feels her breath catch in her throat as he steps in front of her, tilting her chin up with gentle fingertips while the hand in her own laces their fingers together. 

Johnny leans down slowly, ever so slowly, to kiss her and Kristen melts into it. It’s even better than their previous kiss, simply because it’s more sure. Johnny’s lips press against her own firmly, with a confidence that makes her body tingle. 

He doesn’t pull away just as they get going this time either, keeps up the pressure until Kristen gasps and then takes that opportunity to slide his tongue between her lips. Their mouths slide together, tongues tangling slowly, without urgency. Johnny unclasps their hands and anchors his arm around Kristen’s back, pressing against the dip of her spine and pulling their bodies flush together. Kristen arches against him, leaning up on her toes to try and cut at least some of the height difference between them, sliding her arms around his neck. 

The kiss turns deeper, hotter after that, bodies slowly grinding into one another, the slight breeze blowing around them and the sound of the water loud in her ears. 

“Fuck,” Johnny breathes when they break apart after god knows how long. Kristen’s lips feel puffy and every nerve ending in her body is screaming at her to feel this dude’s hands on her everywhere, and fast. Instead he’s still just touching the side of her neck and the small of her back, fingers strong and firm, the slow back and forth strokes of his thumbs making her body sing. 

Kristen's fingers clutch at his shoulders and glide down his arms, reveling in the way his muscles bunch under her touch. "Yeah," Kristen breathes, pulling him back down again, swallowing the small noise he makes against her lips. The sound of the waves is quickly replaced with the sound of their breathing as their kisses become shallower, thready, more desperate. 

Kristen doesn't really expect Johnny to be the kind of guy to pull a _From Here to Eternity_ on the beach but as it turns out he’s destined to constantly surprise her, since he walks them back a few feet, bends his knees and takes them both into the sand. 

Kristen giggles as he settles half on top of her, thinking about how the fucking sand is already sticking to the backs of her thighs. 

Johnny stills above her, hand tangled in her hair, and looks around. Kristen turns her head; no one’s around. 

"This okay?" Johnny asks, voice thick and deep.

Back home she'd probably say no. Semi-public sex isn’t really her bag. But she's here and why not fucking live a little.

"Just kiss me, man," Kristen says, pulling him down. Johnny's thigh settles between her legs and Kristen can feel the outline of his dick, hot and thick against her. She arches against him, gasping when he breaks away from where his tongue was slowly, carefully, tracing her lips, to place open mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at her skin until she lets out a loud moan, her nails digging into his back. 

“Fuck, I want you," Johnny breathes out, mouth skimming along her skin and working its way up the left side of her neck, along her jaw. Johnny cups her face with both hands and claims her mouth in another searing kiss.

Kristen pushes her thigh against his dick, lets the denim ride against her bare skin, her dress completely raked up now. Johnny lets out a choked off moan and Kristen shivers as his right hand slowly slides down her body, lightly cupping her breast before skimming over her stomach. 

"God, Kristen,” he gasps as he breaks away, burying his face in her neck. His voice is uneven, thick with want, and Kristen realizes she's breathing shallowly and basically dry humping his dick.

Johnny's palm is flat against the curve of her hip. Kristen bites her lip and covers his hand with her own, guiding it between her legs. She feels his dick twitch against her and hears a sharp intake of breath before his fingers slide beneath her dress and over her panties. She's wet already, more so than she'd normally be just from some making out. Kristen doesn't know if that has to do with how long it's been since someone touched her or with Johnny specifically and she doesn't really care. 

Johnny's fingers are thick and sure against her, rubbing in small circles above her underwear, teasing her to the point that’s gonna start to make her really fucking restless soon. She groans as he kisses up her neck, pulling her earlobe between her teeth and presses into his fingers. Johnny pushes the fabric aside and slides one finger in, making her shake and clench around it. 

"Shit, shit," Kristen moans, body shaking. Johnny’s got one hand anchored beneath her head, like he's trying to shield her hair from the sand or something and it's ridiculous and perfect all at once. 

"What do you need?" he asks, voice low and tight, dick still pressed against her. 

"Touch my clit," Kristen replies in a rush. She’s never really had someone ask her that before. It's... nice. 

“Yes," Johnny replies, all serious intent, before pressing kisses all along her face, so light she feels she might just shake apart from everything she's feeling. He circles her clit with his thumb again and again and he's so on, hitting every note just right that Kristen has to marvel at it; it’s never been as good as it is right now with Johnny. She's never had any dude, not even Rob, be able to get her off with just their fingers (and Rob had good hands, okay), but Johnny – Johnny has her teetering on the edge not even a minute after zeroing in and Kristen has to fist her sandy hands in his hair and suck on his tongue so as not to scream. Her orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, sharp and explosive as she throws her hips upward against the thumb on her clit and Johnny’s other two fingers that have slid half way inside her pussy, slightly crooked and making her clench and shake and fall apart around him.

Johnny breaks away from her mouth, breathing harsh and rapid, tonguing at his own raw, bitten lips. 

"Oh my god," he croaks out, looking at her in awe. Kristen has no idea why: he did all the work. 

"So fucking hot," he mumbles against her lips. She grins against him, still trying to regain her breathing. Johnny slows the kiss into something dreamy and sated, even though she’s well aware he hasn't come yet. 

She reaches between their bodies, straightening her panties and dress and cupping her hand against the length of him deliberately, feeling the thick, solid line of his dick beneath his jeans. Johnny groans and presses into the touch, easing her into a sitting position with the hand still behind her head and breathing shallowly against her lps. 

"Wanna go to my room?" Kirsten mumbles against his mouth, dragging her tongue along his bottom lip before nibbling.

He nods so fast he knocks their foreheads together. Kristen rolls her eyes but Johnny flat out giggles. He presses a kiss to her head. "Sorry, sorry." 

It's so completely innocuous yet sweet that Kristen wants to simultaneously gag and draw their names in the sand with a heart around it. 

"Lets go," she says decisively, because this is getting ridiculous now. 

They stand, brushing the sand off their bodies.

"You good to walk like that?" Kristen asks, smirking down at his obvious boner. He's definitely packing and fuck, she can't wait to feel him inside her. 

Johnny makes a face and then starts to unbutton his shirt. Kristen swallows, mouth dry and then disappointment along with a amusement washes over her when he reveals a plain white tank top beneath his shirt rather than his bare chest. Johnny ties his shirt around his waist, twisting it so it covers his crotch completely. 

“There.” 

Kristen laughs even harder. “Man, you look like you just stepped out of a time machine from early 90s Seattle. 

Johnny frowns. “Shut up,” he mumbles. 

Kristen kicks sand at his leg. “You shut up, I didn’t say that was bad. Dude, I look like that most of the time. I even wear – gasp – _flannel_ tied around my waist.” 

Johnny mouth curves into a pleased smile. “Well, good, then.” 

Kristen snorts. “Nah, you thought it was an insult. That’s a problem. Grunge was a prime time in history.”

Johnny gives her an unimpressed look and shuffles his feet, like that’ll relieve some of the pressure of his hard-on or something. Moron. “Can we argue about this tomorrow?” 

“Sure, if you feel like hearing about all the ways you’re wrong,” Kristen grins. 

“Yes, fine, whatever.” Johnny holds out his hand for her and her heart stutters as she takes it. They walk back towards the hotel when Kristen has a thought. 

“Shit, do you have anything?” Kristen actually doesn’t herself, but the hotel must have a gift shop that also carries practical things like condoms. She hopes. She looks up at Johnny who’s flushing a little. 

“Uh, yeah. In my wallet.” 

Kristen bumps him in the arm with her shoulder. “Presumptuous,” she says, mock-reprovingly. 

“Hopeful,” Johnny corrects and he sounds so earnestly sincere Kristen can’t even tease him further. 

They trade glances at one another and the lightened mood seems to shift completely, back to the way it was on the beach, passion and want in every look, every touch. Kristen zeroes in on the feel of Johnny’s thumb sweeping across the back of her hand, takes in his bare arms and strong shoulders and how he’s moving stiffly. It’d be funny if she didn’t want the dude so much, but as it is it’s really hard to not climb him like a tree when they get into the elevator and just sit on his dick. She’s _never_ wanted someone this fucking bad in her life, never thought about just screwing public decency this much. 

So she pushes Johnny up against the door as soon as they get inside her room. She knows she’s pretty strong but she’s also well aware he could’ve stood his ground if he’d wanted to. The fact that he let her maneuver him, willingly, sends a twist of desire to curl low in her belly. 

Kristen surges up just as he leans down and then they’re kissing again, messy and hard with her feet mostly off the ground. Johnny slings an arm around her waist, cupping her ass before lifting with both hands and then spinning Kristen into the door, her legs flying up to wrap around his thighs. Turnabout is fair play, she figures, and fuck if she doesn’t like the way his fingers tighten on her ass, the way her naked legs rub against his jeans. Her underwear is still soaked from earlier and she’s still so fucking turned on. 

Johnny sucks a bruising kiss against her shoulder blade and then bites out a groan, walking them backwards towards the bed in the middle of the room and spinning her around and onto it. He falls on top of her easily and then it’s finally time to lift his fucking shirt off his head, untie the knot around his waist and pop the button on his jeans. Johnny hisses as she eases the zipper down, careful to not catch on anything. The dude is completely rock hard and practically bursting. They don’t stop kissing or touching as they undress, Johnny pulling the condom out of his wallet before tossing his jeans off to the side. He’s thick and long and she wraps her hand around him, thumbing the bulging vein down the underside and smearing the pre-come gathered around the head down his dick. Johnny gasps and settles back on top of her, his hands coming up to squeeze her tits before bending down to tongue at her nipple. 

“Shit,” Kristen moans, just in her underwear, his dick so hot in her hand, pressing against her pussy every time her wrist flicks upward. She moves away and just lets him thrust against her, loving the tease of it, the way the flared head of his cock catches on the fabric again and again. 

He moves to her other breast, biting and sucking, squeezing with his other hand until Kristen has both legs wrapped around the small of his back and is practically begging for it. 

“I gotta,” Johnny gasps, lifting his head to slide his mouth up her neck and over her lips. “Gotta fuck you,” he finishes and Kristen just moans more. 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

Johnny kisses her again until she feels like she can never kiss again, lips so puffy and red by now, every part of her needing him inside her yesterday. 

Johnny sits back and drags a hand through his hair, fingers fumbling with the condom. Kristen takes the time to kick off her panties as much as she can, gasping when his hands travel up her thighs after he’s done with his task and slowly inch them off the rest of the way. Then he ducks his head and laves at her inner thigh, just barely kissing her, his mouth hovering above her skin and dragging upward over her pussy before pressing a kiss to the center of it and then sliding his tongue inside. Kristen cries out unabashed and lifts her legs back up around him, sighing as he fucks her hard and fast, getting her even wetter. She just shaved again yesterday morning and loves the way his mouth feels along her sensitive skin, the way the barest stubble on his cheek scratches against her.

Johnny pulls back and his face is a fucking mess, his hair everywhere and Kristen’s never wanted anyone this badly in her entire life. She tugs him forward and he guides himself inside in one easy push, no resistance at all regardless of how long it’s been, that’s how fucking wrecked she is. 

Kristen has no time to be surprised by any of it though because then he’s moving, a fast, brutal rhythm right from the start, their mouths locked and his hands under her thighs, lifting her higher with each thrust. The bed slams against the wall and they’re both moaning loud enough to wake up the entire hotel, even through the frantic kisses that stop and start depending on how badly they need to breathe, but Kristen can’t care. Can’t think of anything but Johnny and the way he’s filling her up and working her over like a pro. He stops thrusting and just grinds in against her pelvic bone, stimulating her clit on each circle of his hips until she comes, gasping and shaking and clenching around him. 

Johnny lets out a guttural moan and pulls back, lifting her legs over his shoulders before driving back in, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. It only takes about thirty seconds more before he’s letting out a low grunt and something that might be her name, back arched in a taut line, body frozen in place and breathing hard. He blinks down at her, gently easing both her legs down, his dick sliding halfway out. He looks dazed and blissed-out and Kristen reaches for him, brings their bodies together, kisses him long and slow until the tremors leave his body and his heartbeat slows. 

He slips free as they shift again and catches the condom, tugging it off and tying it, looking hazily around. 

“Here, gimme,” she says, and plops it in the waste basket beside the nightstand on her side. 

Johnny moans softly and nuzzles his chin against her shoulder. She can feel his smile. His arm slips around her waist, tugging her in so they’re spooning.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, kissing her hair, her temple. 

Kristen wants to shake her head at that. Sex has always just been sex. She hasn’t had like – mind blowing experiences. She didn’t even know it was something in the cards for her, to be honest. Now she’s beginning to think she might have traded comfort for passion, because this – this. 

“A+ job, buddy,” is what Kristen responds with and it’s way more sincere than she intended. Johnny must be pleased though, because he just pulls her in closer and sighs, pressing another kiss to her skin, this time at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. 

“Want me to go?” he asks, and she can’t read anything except tiredness in his voice. She really doesn’t, though. And being held like this is nice, albeit surprising. 

“You’re good,” she whispers, settling against him and tangling their legs together. 

“Night,” Johnny yawns. 

Kristen drifts off with a smile playing on her lips.  
________________________________

There’s sunlight streaming in through the cracked-open curtains and Kristen moans, burying her face against the pillow, except her pillow is breathing. She shifts a little, looking up and taking in Johnny’s peaceful expression, face lax in repose, eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly. She wants to kiss the line of his lips, lick at the small scar gracing his bottom one, ask him how he got it. Johnny grunts a little and pulls her in closer, nuzzling at her neck, fingers gliding up and down her back. 

“Mmm, morning,” he mumbles groggily, barely awake.

“Go back to sleep,” Kristen whispers, and he tightens his grip on her, yawning, before his breathing evens out again. 

Kristen dozes off a bit more herself and when they awaken a second time the sun is even brighter and Johnny’s pressed up behind her, dick hard against her ass. She pushes back against him and he moans, mouth on her shoulder, fingers splayed across her stomach. 

"Good morning," he says softly.

Kristen giggles "You already said that, man.” 

"Mmm, bears repeating.” And then Johnny’s fingers are sliding between her legs and Kristen is inclined to agree with him. 

Johnny brings her off just as effectively as he did last night and she's barely even finished shuddering when she slides down the bed to suck him off, because the dude does good work and deserves it. Also she just wants to feel his dick in her mouth, the silky smooth length of him, the way he gets so loud as she sucks him down to the base and plays with his balls. 

Kristen pulls off when he's sobbing out "Gonna, oh fuck, gonna come," in between broken moans, intending to finish with her hands before looking him straight in the eye and sliding her lips over the head of his dick purposely.

"Oh my fucking god," Johnny gasps and comes, thick and hot on her tongue. She works his shaft with her hand and swallows every drop, pulling off with a plop and licking at the corner of her mouth. Johnny's pupils are blown, his hair is everywhere, and his chest is flushed and heaving; Kristen's not sure if she's ever seen anything hotter. 

He tugs her up and then down to his lips, kissing her long and deep. Kristen's had a few dudes who shudder at the taste of their own come so she's glad he's at least not like that. They settle on their sides and kiss lazily until the need to breathe becomes unavoidable. 

"Shower?" Kristen asks, feeling pretty rank. 

"Sure." 

It's a little domestic, showering together especially when no one is getting off in it but hey, Johnny doesn't seem to mind or he's just too come-dumb to care right now.  
________________________________

Kristen keeps waiting for the awkwardness to set in but it doesn't. They head down to the beach and swim in the perfect crystal blue water before walking leisurely along Bavaro, all the way up to his resort where she sees him room for the first time. It's nice, not as big as hers but definitely fancy enough to know this dude does pretty okay for himself, financially. Kristen’s vaguely curious what he does _exactly_ , until she reminds herself of her own rules on that subject. Still, she doesn't doubt that whatever it is, he's good at it. 

But the most important part of Johnny's room is that it's where the condoms are, so they fuck on his clean sheets, fast and furious and just as mind-blowing as last night, before taking a nap curled around each other.

Kristen has no clothes with her besides her bathing suit and a sheer thing she throws over it, so when they wake up Johnny suggests they just order room service and watch a movie rather than going to a restaurant. Kristen's totally okay with that and soon they're stuffing their faces and drinking wine and watching some bad romantic comedy because Johnny made them flip a coin. 

"I regret introducing you to the beauty of deciding things with coin flips, man. You’re gonna use it for your nefarious ways."

Johnny just grins happily around his burger. They end up making out more than watching the film, lazy and without intent, so Kristen can't exactly complain about what is essentially just a cheesy background soundtrack. Especially not when Johnny’s mouth is warm and sweet beneath her own, alternating between playful and stinging kisses before licking his way down her body and eating her out with an enthusiasm she’s honestly never experienced before. 

Johnny wrecks her completely, making her back arch, her thighs tense, and her voice crack as she cries out and fucks up against his face. 

Then he fucks her languidly on their sides, Kristen’s sweaty palms sliding over the slick skin of his back, digging into the meat of his shoulders, the air hot and humid around them. Johnny makes a lot of noise when he comes, breathing out curses and her name and maybe even some French and Kristen finds the whole thing hot enough to send her off again. 

“Wanna head down to the beach?” Johnny mumbles into the vertebra of her neck after they nap. She rubs at her eyes, really needing to put her rewetting drops in. She hasn’t worn her glasses at all since she always wants to be wearing sunglasses as much as she can. 

Kristen swings her legs over the side of the bed, stretching, the sheet tangled around her waist. She shivers as Johnny trails one finger down her spine. 

“Do we gotta?” 

She looks over her shoulder and sees Johnny shrug. “No, of course not. It’s just. Well, I dunno if you smoke up or not, but we could, if we go” 

Kristen’s eyes widen a little. “Yeah?” 

She watches the corner of his lips twitch. “Yeah. Bought some my first day here, but it’s always nice to do it with someone else.” 

“That’s what she said,” Kristen calls over her shoulder, heading into the bathroom to splash some water on her face, her eyes feeling a little better at the feel of the water. 

“You want to, then?” she hears from the bedroom. 

“Yeah, dude, but I’m borrowing one of your shirts and some boxers.”

There’s a thud from the other room and Kristen whips her head out of the bathroom to see Johnny on the floor, struggling to get into his pants. 

Kristen throws her head back in a laugh. “I’m learning all your kinks, man. There’ll be no mystery left.” 

He scowls at her but doesn’t deny it. 

Down on the beach Kristen’s wearing one of Johnny’s black tank tops that is way too big for her, no bra, and boxer briefs that barely stay on her hips, as they sit on the beach while Johnny lights the joint he rolled in the room. 

“Our luck we’ll get picked up for indecency with the way you’re dressed,” he mutters, and Kristen elbows him in the gut. 

“Not like I’m strippin’, man.” 

Johnny’s eyes look pure black as they meet hers in the glow of the moonlight, his pupils dilated. 

“Well, I think skinny dipping might be on my bucket list.” 

Kristen snorts. “Of course you have a bucket list. Also, exhibitionist much?” 

She thinks he might blush a little and that’s amazing. Johnny lights up the joint and takes a puff, exhaling slowly. “Good, it’s real this time,” he says, voice thick with smoke. 

Kristen looks at him quizzically as he hands her the joint and she takes a long hit. 

“When I went to Vegas with my brother and some friends, I tried to score some weed in the bathroom,” Johnny explains. “I was super nervous because we were right in one of the hotel casinos, you know? So I didn’t even look at it, just handed over fifty and when I got back to the room discovered it was all bits of crumpled up newspaper.”

Kristen shakes so hard with laughter she falls back onto the sand, Johnny’s boxers sliding a little lower on her hips. He growls and straddles her thighs, grabbing back the joint and then tickling her with one hand, fingers kneading at her stomach and making her choke on her gasps. 

“Asshole, stop,” she laughs, kicking at his ass with her heels and causing him to tip over. Johnny’s laughing too by the time she gets up in his face and steals back the joint, inhaling long and slow and then grabbing Johnny by the back of the neck and sealing their mouths together, blowing the smoke out against his lips. He gasps and accepts the shotgun, their breaths mingling, the steady stream of smoke swirling between them. Johnny tips her forward and they kiss deep and hard, his fingers digging into the fabric of his own underwear, hands flexing on the swell of Kristen’s ass. 

“If you wanna act out an R.E.M. song, man, who am I to deny you,” she says breathlessly when they break apart. Johnny grins against her lips and shucks off his shirt. They end up shedding the rest of their clothes further down the beach and kissing under the full moon and against the calmness of the waves, naked as the day they were born, bodies slick and smooth, while Kristen just hums Michael Stipe’s lyrics the whole time while Johnny laughs against her lips, giddy and high. 

It’s kind of a perfect night.  
________________________________

Johnny is leaving in two days and that's bumming Kristen out more than she expected, and not just because she's having the best sex of her life. But she pushes the feeling aside and focuses on making the most of their time together each day and yeah, a lot of that includes sex but they also go scuba diving together and play golf and Johnny decides to take her wakeboarding since the surfing wasn’t too awful. Basically they have a shit ton of fun.

They stay at her hotel that night and fuck for hours, Johnny going down on her until she's come not once but twice and then fucking her on hands and knees before Kristen pushes him off and climbs over his thighs, fucking herself on his dick while he sucks on her tits. She comes again, boneless and fucked out and barely able to hold herself steady, balanced by Johnny's legs and arms as he comes on a gasping moan.

He eases her down so he's facing the foot of the bed, still pulsing a little inside her, pressing feather-light kisses against her face. 

"God," he breathes, still trying to regain control of his lungs. "You," he starts, pulling back to look at her, stroking her cheek. 

Kristen lets her teeth graze his thumb. "What?”

Except the way he's looking at her right now, cracked open and vulnerable, she's not really sure she wants to know.

Johnny shakes his head. "Nothing.”

Kristen’s mostly relieved. She thinks.  
________________________________

The next day feels weird and she's not sure if its because of whatever he didn’t say or because he’s leaving the following morning. 

They head over to his hotel and hang out in the sauna for a bit before going for a swim. There’s no real agenda today which Kristen is cool with. Instead they play dumb games like Would You Rather? and Never Have I Ever while sipping cocktails and taking in the sun.

They finally delve into ex-talk as a result of some questions. Kristen learns his last real relationship was two years ago, and it lasted a few years before that. She tells him about her break-up with Rob last year but how in reality it felt like they’d been broken up well before that. Kristen also learns less intense things about Johnny, like how he’d rather be a tiger than a shark, would rather be a hero than a villain, and has never been to a carnival.

“Seriously? Never?”

Johnny shrugs. “Nope. Plus I'd probably die on the ferris wheel or something. I don't trust that shit.”

Kristen rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, you lame-o. Please tell me you've at least been to a big amusement park.”

He shakes his head.

“This is a travesty. Your childhood lacked fundamental joy.”

He grins smugly. “I think I turned out okay.”

“Uh-huh,” Kristen replies skeptically. They've moved onto the beach so they can be gross and lay all over one another on a towel and kiss and shit. Kristen normally hates PDAs but she figures that's sort of the purpose of a vacation spot that is mostly couples only.

She'd be more concerned over the way the past few days have sort of turned her into someone she doesn’t really recognize and how she's going to have to go back to being both the person she is at work and the person she is with her friends – which is slightly different from the way she’s acting right now – but she’s not dealing with that right now. 

Johnny starts looking at his phone a lot while Kristen is half-heartedly using him as a human sand castle and she sighs to herself. He's probably already back in Real World Mode, which sucks.

“Pay attention, asshole, or I'll bury you,” Kristen threatens, throwing a ton of sand on his chest. 

Johnny grins up at her, then bites his lip. "Uh, so like. I guess it's pretty cheesy but there's a sunset cruise tonight. If you wanted to go."

The dude looks nervous about it and Kristen frowns. "Uh, sure? Why not?" 

Johnny smiles so bright and Kristen smears sand into his hair. 

"Moron."

Except when they get there she understands why he was. It's a fucking private boat ride. With champagne and caviar and the perfect water and the gorgeous colors painting the sky around the setting sun and – yeah. It's pretty damn romantic. And obviously something he had to personally book.

Kristen feels her stomach dive and swoop. 

“Dude… this must have cost a fortune,” Kristen says as they walk around the upper deck. 

“It wasn’t too bad.” 

Kristen snorts. “Bullshit.” 

When Johnny looks over he’s chewing on his lips again. “It was through the excursion thing. It’s like… two hours. Is it alright?" Johnny asks, tentatively. “I mean, it’s not like we have– ”

She pulls him down for a kiss, fierce and hard, pulse jumping at the way he just steadies her with an arm anchored around the small of her back and opens up beneath her. 

They sit on the bow for the most part and just watch the sunset, arms around one another, talking quietly, while the captain or whoever does his thing below. So since they're not like, totally alone they don't get crazy or anything but they definitely make out and Johnny's hands definitely feel up her tits. 

The whole thing is just kinda stupidly perfect and by the time they're back on shore Kristen is forced to admit to herself that somehow, in less than a week, she's gone and totally fallen for this dude. Which is completely inconvenient. 

They start back to the private beach area of her hotel and take the same path along the edge of the ocean like they did the first night they fucked. 

"So uh," Johnny starts and Kristen tenses. Here it comes. "Do you uh, I mean, I don't even know your last name, yet I..."

Kristen looks down at the sand, heart in her throat. 

"I guess I'm just trying to find out if we're gonna do any exchange of contact info, or what? I really want to tell you where I live, actually, but you’ve been… pretty set on this escapism thing."

He sounds a mixture of nervous and frustrated and Kristen doesn't really know what to do to correct that. No matter how into him she is, it doesn't change the fact that a relationship right now isn't really in the cards, and making this whole thing more real would just complicate everything further. 

Then she gets an idea, "Email?" Kristen asks, looking up and meeting his hopeful eyes.

Johnny gives her a face. "Email," he repeats, flatly.

Kristen squeezes his fingers. "I dunno, man, I think it's sort of charming. No one really interacts over email anymore in meaningful ways. It's all Facebook messaging and Twitter and FaceTime and Skype and Instagram." She shrugs. "You're the one into the romantic comedies. Think _You've Got Mail_." 

Johnny's expression has shifted into fondness by the time she's done rambling. 

"Okay, okay. Email. For now," he adds at the end, like a caveat, and that's fine. Maybe once Kristen has her feet under her they can upgrade to like, phone numbers and actually knowing one another's location. 

In any event they do exchange phones right now, to add each other’s addresses. 

Kristen laughs when he hands hers back. “Tazer1988?” 

“Nickname,” Johnny mumbles, looking at his phone. “KJS24?” 

“Initials,” Kristen grins. “And don’t try to guess.” 

Johnny laughs and pockets his phone, taking her hand again. “Ugh, I’m already dreading my relocation,” he bemoans as they start to walk back. 

“Why?” 

“Just some emails I got today. Apparently my new boss is a piece of work.” 

“That sucks, man.” 

“Yeah. Worst part is I probably know a lot more about the business than she does, actually. I’ve wanted this transfer for a while and I feel like they only gave it to me so I could be in an assistant position to help someone who doesn’t even know what they’re doing.” 

“Huh,” Kristen says, wrapping her arm around his back. “I’m sorry, that really does suck.” 

Johnny huffs out a breath and puts his arm around her shoulder, kissing her forehead. “Eh, I just needed to complain. Mundane shit like this is what we were able to avoid here. You’ll probably be running for the hills after my bitchy emails about work.” 

“Nah, you’ll be the one running. I’m crazy, dude, you’ve got no idea.” 

“I’ll take my chances,” Johnny deadpans, but Jesus Christ, does Kristen hear the sincerity beneath it. 

They kiss in the elevator on the way up because Kristen just needs to get her hands on him and when they’re finally in the room and naked it all slows to a near standstill. Johnny just – goes to town, worshiping every inch of her body until she’s trembling, leaving a trail of wet kisses and bite marks. Kristen pushes Johnny backwards and goes down on him a bit, his fingers threading through her hair, making her scalp tingle and her body just _want_. 

“Come up here,” he whispers and she does, kissing up his chest and hovering over his mouth. 

“No,” Johnny says when their lips part, slick and perfect, hand on her thigh, squeezing. “Come _up_ here.” His voice is rough like sandpaper and Kristen just stares at him as he thumbs at the crease of her thigh. 

“Fuck,” she breathes and straddles his body before lowering her pussy to his mouth. Johnny’s fingers curve into her hipbones and he goes to work immediately, licking at her like he’s never wanted anything more, fucking her with his tongue and pulling back to breathe every few moments, nipping at her inner thigh before diving back in. He encourages her to fuck his face and Kristen has to close her eyes, press her palms against the plaster and just breathe. She feels completely exposed, vulnerable, and yet she can’t get enough of it. 

He teases her like that, licking relentlessly and driving her crazy, coaxing out loud, sharp cries from her throat until his cheeks are red and his jaw is probably aching. He stops before she comes, flipping her down onto the bed and reaching for a condom. 

“You sound so fucking hot, you know that?” Johnny mumbles against her lips as he rips the condom open. “Christ, the sounds you make.” 

Kristen flushes and steals the condom from his hand, rolling it down his dick and making him moan when she squeezes his balls. 

When they finally do start fucking it’s barely a rhythm – just Johnny pressing her into the mattress, their mouths fused together the whole time even though it’s gotta be hell on his neck. 

It’s languid and hot and Kristen’s moaning, “Right there, right there,” against Johnny’s lips everytime he grinds in so fucking deep and holds it, making her muscles clench around him. 

They come almost at the same time, to wordless cries and grappling hands and if her face is a little wet, it’s simply from the exertion. 

They fall asleep intertwined and Kristen wakes Johnny up with a blowjob before they go down for an early breakfast. Before she knows it they’re standing outside the hotel and saying goodbye. He’s still gotta get to his room, check out, and head to the airport. 

“You’ll make it?” 

Johnny checks his watch. “Yeah, should.” He looks up again, face contorted. “I, uh.” 

Kristen shakes her head. “Shut up.” 

Johnny smirks and swoops down for a deep, dirty kiss that has her knees buckling. 

“I’ll email you,” he whispers as their mouths part. 

“Holdin’ you to that,” Kristen replies, pulling him down for one more kiss before slapping his ass. “Now beat it.” 

Johnny’s smile is wistful as he turns around and heads down the beach. Kristen watches until he’s out of sight, not surprised when he turns around not once but twice, waving dumbly. She can’t help but wonder how empty her next few days are gonna feel. 

Kristen goes back to her room and calls Suzie, roaming charges be damned. 

“You were just supposed to get laid, not wind up pining for some dude,” Suzie says after listening to Kristen’s pathetic tale of island boning. 

“I’m not pining,” Kristen argues, burying her face in her sheets that still smell like him. She pauses. “Okay, I’m pining.” 

Suzie groans. “How are you so bad at this?” 

“Years of practice,” Kristen says dryly. 

They talk for a little bit more and then Kristen hauls herself down for a swim, wondering how she could miss someone this much already. 

She never should’ve taken this vacation.


	2. You’ll fake it if you have to

Kristen’s definitely less tense when she returns home but she’s also more blasé about this job than she was before. She wants to care about it, wants to make her grandfather proud, but the past week Kristen really felt like she was _living_ , no matter how unrealistic the setting, and maybe she actually _doesn’t_ want to just throw herself into work. Maybe she should’ve taken Johnny’s number, shouldn’t have tried to play it safe. 

He doesn’t contact her until Monday morning. She just got back the night before and perhaps he was just trying to let her have space – not be all up in her business while she was still on vacation. Maybe he thinks she was going to have another hook-up or something. In reality, all Kristen really did was swim and read and jerk off to every single one of their fucks. 

She opens his email and reads. 

_Morning. Have I ever mentioned I hate Monday mornings? Well, actually mornings kind of suck in general even though I’m always up early, can never really sleep in much (does my body hate me?) but Monday mornings in particular are the worst. Hope the rest of your trip went well. Starting my new job today – wish me luck._

_Johnny_

Kristen’s a little disappointed by how – buddy buddy the email is, to be honest. Like – you wouldn’t think this was someone she spent five days having the hottest sex of her life with. Maybe he’s over it already and trying to be nice, or maybe Kristen completely fucked up or like, insulted him by limiting them to this impersonal method of communication. Then she sees there’s another message beneath it in the gmail thread. 

_I can’t stop thinking about your face and the sounds you make when you come_

Kristen’s face heats immediately and a sharp bolt of want settles low in her belly. 

She types back. 

_Hey._

_Mondays absolutely suck. Break a leg today._

_Can’t stop thinking about you, either._

_Kristen_

It’s a little sappier than she’d normally be and she kind of wants to punch herself in the face for it. Instead she decides to grab a banana and haul ass to work, already worried about what kinds of catastrophes will greet her. She gets complimented on her tan at least fifteen times before she can even get to her office. Which is when she remembers she’s getting that sort-of assistant today. And the only reason she remembers _that_ is because her mom left her a note saying she’s bringing the dude – Jonathan – by at 10. 

Kristen’s barely finished responding to emails, reviewing expense reports and looking at the mail on her desk when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” she says, standing and smoothing down her suit. She should’ve put her hair up, it makes her look older. 

Her mom steps in, looking impeccable as always, and then Kristen looks behind her and up and her heart fucking stops.

“Johnn– ” she starts before snapping her mouth shut. 

Johnny’s eyes widen comically. 

“Yes, this is Jonathan, the transfer from the New York office,” her mom is saying, voice a little hard, probably thinking Kristen totally forgot who he is, even with the note. “And your new assistant. Jonathan Toews, Kristen Stewart.” 

Johnny’s mouth works and Kristen can barely move her feet the few steps in order to shake his hand.  
“You’re…” he starts, but Kristen shakes her head imperceptibly. One of them needs to pull it together here. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Jonathan,” she says, all business, holding out her hand. 

Johnny looks at it blankly and Kristen flashes back to the first day they met when she had a similar reaction. 

He clears his throat, not quite meeting her eyes. “Same, Miss Stewart.” 

Kristen winces at the formality in his tone. 

“Is everything alright here?” her mom asks, looking back and forth between their faces and the stiffness of their handshake. 

Kristen pulls away first, just like that day on the beach, and turns to her mom. “Everything’s great,” she reassures before facing Johnny – Jonathan? She has no fucking idea how to think of him in her head right now – again. 

“You can call me Kristen,” she tells him, because that’s one fucking thing she isn’t going to deal with. 

Johnny nods, again barely making eye contact. He looks super uncomfortable and there’s a blush rising on his cheeks. She wants to tell him to get it together, him being unable to even look at her just because they spent the last week fucking and now she’s gonna be his boss… well, sure, it’s something straight out of some shitty dime store novel, but it’s nothing two grown adults can’t handle. 

And that’s when it all sinks in. Because somewhere in her shock she’d forgotten the things Johnny said about his new job and more importantly, his new boss. He thinks she doesn’t know what she’s doing, that he’s more deserving of the position. He thinks she’s a ‘ _piece of work_ ’ to be exact, that this is some kind of demotion for him. Kristen’s suddenly furious, feels the anger flooding through her veins. 

“Well, I already gave Jonathan the tour, dear. I’ll leave you to the rest,” her mom is saying, but Kristen can barely hear it over the blood rushing in her ears. “Welcome aboard,” she says to Johnny, shaking his hand. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Stewart.” 

And then the door is closed and they’re alone. Johnny finally catches her eyes and she watches him flinch, obviously seeing on her face what he’d apparently feared all along. Good. Kristen hopes he feels like shit because she certainly does. 

“I’m – ” he croaks out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t– ” 

“Didn’t know the woman you were fucking was your new, incompetent boss? Yeah, I kinda figured that,” Kristen says, voice tight but level, even though the anger is steadily building in her chest and threatening to escape. 

“Kristen–” Johnny says, sounding completely miserable. 

Kristen shakes her head and looks at him, ignoring the kicked puppy expression on his face, how downturned his mouth is, how desperate his eyes seem. 

“Forget it, it’s over. We have to work together and if that’s going to be a problem for you I could always have you transferred back to New York.” 

“No,” he says sharply, rubbing his hand across his mouth. “Uh. It won’t be a problem.” 

Kristen nods, her jaw clenched. She’s not sure if she’d been hoping he’d say that or the exact opposite. She’s not sure if this won’t be a problem for _herself_. 

“Good,” Kristen replies, letting out a silent breath. “Let me show you what we’re doing this issue.”  
_______________________________

Kristen isn’t exactly sure what spurs her on. Maybe it’s the knowledge that Johnny already thinks she doesn’t know shit, maybe it’s the need for distraction. Whatever it is, she’s able to put all the weirdness beside her and run through a normal day with Johnny, with surprisingly minimal awkwardness. Johnny, to his credit, is being nothing but professional and is an avid listener, something she was already aware of. He nods a lot and doesn’t say shit like ‘yeah, I already know that’, which Kristen is grateful for since it means she doesn’t have to bite his head off. 

For the second half of the day he’s in his office, just getting acclimated and it gives Kristen some time to just sit in her office with her door closed and fucking _breathe_. 

**You’ll never believe whats happened** she texts Suzie around 3pm. 

Suzie replies with a question mark. 

**just have wine ready tonight, okay?**

**u got it**

Kristen has the best friends. 

She checks her personal, non-work email for the first time since arriving to the office and feels her stomach jerk and twist. 

It’s from Johnny, but it’s timestamped 8:54 a.m., which was before their meeting this morning. 

_I’ll do my best. Hope your first day back goes smoothly. Keep thinking about the way looked, all spread out on my sheets, your hair in your face. I want to kiss you everywhere._

_Uh, okay, in elevator up to my job so I’d better go before I get a boner. Fingers crossed today doesn’t suck ass._

_Johnny_

Kristen hates that it turns her on, hates that he kept expecting the worst regarding this relocation, regarding _her_. But maybe, most pathetically of all, she hates that she can’t respond, that he’s no longer this awesome dude she met on vacation. She hates that, even if he _hadn’t_ unintentionally insulted her, they probably couldn’t have continued this to begin with. She’s his boss, for christ’s sake. That would probably break a lot of office policies, or at least she assumes it would. She’s never actually taken the time to like, read up on the company handbook even though this is basically _her_ company now. 

Kristen groans and drops her head into her folded arms onto the desk. “What a fucking disaster.” 

Her phone rings and it’s Johnny’s extension. 

Kristen tenses as she answers. “Yes?” 

She listens to him clear his throat. “The web design team would like to run some stuff by you tomorrow, for the launching of the next digital issue. When should I schedule them for?”

Abstractly, Kristen knew Johnny would be doing these things, since he’s wearing the dual hat of being her assistant while also writing some copy, but it’s different for it to actually be happening. After the revolving door of interns she’d kind of gotten used to doing this shit herself, regardless of how ragged it was running her. 

Still, she almost wants to tell him to patch these types of calls/emails through to her, now that she’s so clearly aware of how much he resents having to cater to the wet behind the ears CEO/Editor-in-Chief. Alright, maybe she’s still more bitter than she realized. 

She takes a look at her schedule. “Make it 10:30. The conference room.” 

“Sounds good.” Johnny says. 

She’s pulling the phone away from the ear when she hears him say her name, hesitantly. 

“What?” she replies, instantly weary, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. 

“I – nothing,” he says in a rush before the line clicks dead. 

Kristen hangs up and stares at the phone for a good ten seconds before moving onto the next thing. 

She doesn’t really see Johnny the rest of the day and is glad they don’t leave at the same time, Johnny still in his office with the door closed when Kristen leaves around 5:30. She feels a surge of affection at him putting in long hours already until she remembers this isn’t Island Johnny. This is Work Johnny and Work Johnny is probably judging Kristen for leaving at 5:30. 

“Fuck everything,” Kristen mutters as she gets in the elevator. One of the HR people tosses a glance at her but she just puts on her stoniest expression and he turns back around. 

Suzie has Thai takeout and wine ready for her when she walks in the door. 

Kristen all but collapses into her arms. 

“You’re my favorite person,” Kristen tells her, voice muffled against Suzie’s shoulder. 

Suzie laughs and strokes her hair. 

“Come on, let’s get drunk and you can tell me all about it.”

“What a dickbag,” Suzie proclaims when they’ve finished the first bottle and moved onto the second, sprawled at opposite ends of the couch and watching Project Runway. 

“I guess,” Kristen mutters. 

Suzie raises her glass in Kristen’s direction. “You can never tell people from like, vacation. No one is themselves on vacation.” 

Kristen’s mouth twists. She sort of wasn’t herself either. In ways. And Johnny – well, Johnny _was_ himself, he just didn’t treat Kristen the way he’d probably treat a boss he didn’t respect. She frowns at that thought too, her brain fuzzy from the alcohol. 

“He’s not – I mean, he isn’t being a dick, though. Maybe he doesn’t respect me,” she says, wincing at her own words, not realizing how much they’d hurt, “but he hasn’t shown any condescension. I mean, it’s only day one…” 

Suzie laughs bitterly. “The second he does, you fire his ass.” 

Kristen closes her eyes. “I’m gonna– ” she waves vaguely in the direction of her bedroom and stands on wobbly feet. 

“Night, babe,” Suzie replies. 

Kristen flops onto her bed and pulls up her email on her iPad. There’s a message from Johnny. 

_Kristen,_

_I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I need to get this out and then I swear I’ll leave you alone. Or – well – you know what I mean. Obviously I didn’t know who you were and vice versa. I also really don’t know anything about you in terms of being a boss or what kind of asset you are to the company. I said those things based on what some acquaintances of mine who I used to work with told me. I’m sorry I judged you unknowingly. That can be a bad habit of mine, one I’m trying to work on. I’d – in terms of us working together, I’d like to wipe the slate clean, if we can. Please don’t believe I disrespect you. I promise I’ll be nothing less than professional. As for… everything else. I really don’t know what to say. The emails I sent today probably seem way out of line now, even though… Fuck. I don’t know, I had a few beers and writing this is all starting to seem like a bad idea. Look, you probably think I’m some know-it-all asshole and i dont blame you but i. i wish things were different. im sorry._

Kristen’s head is spinning by the time she finishes reading it and she can barely parse together what he was trying to say at the end there. She sort of wants to shake her phone so more of his words will spill out, especially all the shit he _didn’t_ say. Like how he completely tiptoed around what happened between them and how yeah, it shouldn’t happen again but fuck it, she still stupidly wants him to _want_ it to. And maybe that’s where he was going but she just wants to hear it, regardless of how it won’t exactly change matters. 

She believes him, is the thing – about him not disrespecting her. She can’t really picture him actively doing so, to anyone, actually. Regardless, she still feels she has something to prove to him, and more importantly, to herself. If Johnny’s presence has done anything it’s reinforced her desire to be the best she can be at this job. Something she didn’t care about whatsoever this morning, still too wrapped up in her Punta Cana fantasy world.

 _I don’t hate you._ is all she can manage back to him tonight.  
_______________________________

The next morning while getting ready Kristen decides to shelve her decision to be kind of cold and standoffish with her staff. She’s fully aware it has to do with Johnny’s presence, about her proving shit to him but honestly, it never felt completely comfortable to her. She can still be a boss without being completely detached. 

Kristen meets with Ashley, who is head of the web design team, and Brandon, one of the photographers that day. Kristen studies the digital images versus what’s on the mock-up page for the site and frowns. 

“No. I don’t want all this Photoshopping.” 

Ashley and Brandon exchange a look.

“Uh, it’s the way it’s always done, Miss Stewart,” Brandon says. He’s pretty young and stupidly polite from all the interactions Kristen’s had with him thus far, if a little nervous. 

“Kristen,” she tells him, not sure if she ever has before. She smirks at the way he flushes and watches Ashley roll her eyes fondly in his direction. “And I don’t care. My grandfather was a great man but he also compromised things like that – think about when he started this magazine. The models weren’t perfect and that’s – that should be okay, you know? Touch up in Photoshop what you need to, in terms of coloring, etc, but I don’t want any cinched waistlines or enhanced breasts.”

Brandon and Ashley exchange another look, but this time they manage to look impressed and Kristen tries to calm her own self-congratulatory feelings. 

“You’re the boss,” Ashley says and it doesn’t sound condescending in the slightest. 

Kristen nods. “I’ll have Johnny draw up a memo.” 

She sends him an email about it and he has it back to her within 15 minutes. 

Things go pretty smoothly the rest of the week, if only for the fact that she and Johnny are so busy they don’t exactly have time to let things get awkward. Kristen mostly converses with Johnny via email or phone or when they’re going to the same meeting together. It’s not like he’s glued to her side. Kristen doesn’t need her assistant to be her right-hand man or anything. She’s more than determined to be as independent as possible but it’s still nice that Johnny’s there with a reminder about a big shareholders meeting or the informal luncheon she has with Tom Ford for a spotlight story. And when Kristen's meeting with Brooke, their head writer/journalist, in her office to go over possible interviews during fashion week, it’s nice when Johnny knocks to ask if they’d like any coffee. 

By the end of the week it’s pretty damn clear Johnny knows her schedule better than she does, which she supposes is the point. While Kristen’s running around getting things organized for the next issue, she notices Johnny furiously typing away on his computer. 

She finally asks him about it Thursday. 

“Oh, uh.” Johnny runs a hand through his hair. He’s cut it since vacation, all shortly cropped up top and trimmed in the back. Kristen wouldn’t be able to stick her hand in and just tug and hold on like she – fuck. 

“I have my own column? It’s – it’s on the website, kind of tucked away. Sort of like a What Not to Wear kind of thing.” 

The surprise of it rids her mind of the unbidden thoughts immediately. Kristen isn’t sure how she didn’t know about this, honestly. 

“I also write some for the fitness section,” he adds, and that certainly doesn’t surprise her at all. 

She does some exploring when she’s back in her office and she sees his column under the blog section. She’s never really branched out to that area. She spends her lunch hour back-reading it, telling herself it isn’t being a creeper if the dude is your employee. She’s just checking up on his work. As expected, Johnny’s fucking good at what he does and he has an eye for fashion that Kristen wouldn’t have necessarily anticipated. She wants to find out how he achieved it, where he went to school, just – more. She also looks at his fitness articles and they’re filled with a lot of great exercise tips and nutrition advice. 

There’s a knock on her door and she closes the webpage quickly, as if she’d been looking at porn or something. 

“Hi,” Johnny says, sticking his head in the door. He looks ridiculously good today. Well, he’s looked good every day. Kristen’s sadly discovered he can wear the fuck out of business suits just like he can a bathing suit. “I’m going to lunch in a minute, just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.” 

Kristen waves her hand. “No, I’m good.”

Johnny nods briskly, making to turn around. 

“Hey, uh– ” 

He stops and looks at her expectantly. 

Kristen feels her mouth go dry at the slight hope in his eyes, with earnestness she caught a few times on vacation that she didn’t realize she’d missed. 

“Well, nice work,” she says, motioning to the computer screen and hoping he gets it. 

Johnny must, if his blush is anything to go on. “Thanks. Would you– ” he starts before closing his mouth with an audible snap. 

“Would I…?” Kristen prompts but Johnny’s already shaking his head sharply. 

“Nothing, I should,” he waves vaguely behind him and the tension in the room has suddenly skyrocketed. “So, see ya,” he mumbles, walking out and shutting the door quietly behind him. Kristen sits back in her chair and sighs. Obviously her assessment of them being too busy to be uncomfortable was incorrect because that was some epic awkwardness right there. 

She has no idea how to fix this.  
_______________________________

“You have to fight or fuck,” CJ says bluntly while they’re out for Sushi Friday night with Suzie, Alicia, and Alannah. 

Kristen nearly chokes on her saké. 

“Or fire,” Suzie mumbles around her eel roll. “Don’t forget the third F here, it’s an important one.” 

CJ scoffs. “Please, she’s not gonna fire him. She’s head over heels, look at her.” 

Kristen frowns and looks at the mirrored walls behind CJ’s head. “Look at me what? I look totally normal.” She checks out her reflection. It’s true. Especially on days like today when she can shed her fucking professional look and just be herself. She loves dress down Fridays. She doesn’t let herself go all out like she is now, wearing a backwards baseball cap and all, but she still wears jeans and t-shirts and Converse. 

Johnny was definitely taken aback today when he saw her and Kristen’s pretty fucking sure he swallowed, hard, before turning into his office in the morning. It’s stupid but she was glad that she’s not the only one still affected here, even though they both need to get over this. Hence the current conversation. 

“And fuck you, we’re not gonna fuck,” Kristen says a little too loud, so that it draws a disapproving look from a woman at a neighboring table. Whatever. 

“Then you need to lay it all out on the table,” Alicia replies. “Scream at him, throw something, I dunno man, but it’s gonna explode at some point and you’d probably rather that not happen in the form of you two screwing on your desk.” 

Kristen groans and pours some more saké. “Jesus Christ, is there anyone at this table who sees this ending in some other way than us doing it in my office?” 

Only Suzie raises her hand but Kristen doesn’t like the look of that smirk. “I personally see you guys doing it in _his_ offi– ” Kristen throws a cucumber roll at her before she can finish. 

“You guys, he’s my employee. My _assistant,_ even. I’m not gonna bang my assistant, that’s so– ”

“Hot?” 

“James Spader in _Secretary_?” 

— come the simultaneous replies. Kristen rolls her eyes. “ _Trashy_. And probably, like, _wrong_.” 

Alannah shrugs. “If you’re into it and he’s into it… consenting adults, all that good shit.” 

“I hate all of you, I just want you to know,” Kristen says, downing another glass.  
_______________________________

Kristen is well on her way to drunk and can barely stuff another salmon avocado roll into her mouth when she spots him. At first she assumes her eyes are playing tricks on her but she’s honestly never gotten drunk enough to like, call up a mirage of someone. She blinks a few times but there’s no way of getting around it. That is indeed Jonathan Toews standing at the oyster bar with one of the magazine’s writers and in-house models on either side of him. She watches as he knocks back an oyster like a shot while the blonde woman in their group laughs and reaches over to touch his arm. Kristen grits her teeth and imagines Johnny kissing her, taking her home, fucking her as good as he fucked Kristen. The dude’s a single guy in a brand new city – he’s got a plethora of options before him and… she’s fine with that. It’s cool. 

“Of all the sushi joints in all the world,” Kristen mutters. 

Suzie’s head jerks up from where it was listing on Kristen’s shoulder. “Huh? Wait, is– ?”

“Shhh,” Kristen hisses. She doesn’t want the whole table knowing, they’ll completely blow up her spot. “But – yeah, he’s fucking here.” 

“Where?” Suzie asks, pulling herself up along the back of the booth. 

“3 o’clock.” 

“Tall, short dark hair,” Kristen grits out, looking anywhere but in his direction. 

Suzie whistles. “Damn, girl. Although his friend isn’t too shabby, either.” 

Kristen rolls her eyes. She kind of wants to bolt, but she also wants him to see her, for him to see what she can be like out with her friends. Instead, she decides to just ignore him. It’s not gonna ruin her night. Kristen loses herself in some good friends and good conversation and a while later, out of the corner of her eye, she notices they’ve moved to a table off along the wall. 

She lets herself look, full on, and that’s when she notices model dude – she thinks his name is Patrick but honestly she can’t be sure, motioning to Johnny in her direction. She feels an immediate flash of anger. If he fucking told… 

Then Johnny’s eyes meet hers and after the initial shock his face breaks into a stupidly big smile that takes her breath away until he checks himself. It’s like he forgot where they are now, who they are now. 

“I need a cigarette,” Kristen announces, even though she quit a few months ago. Bad timing, seriously. Her friends collectively call her on that exact thing as she’s easing her way out of the booth. 

“Just shut up and let me bum one,” Kristen says impatiently to CJ, letting a little bit of Boss Kristen seep into her voice. 

CJ holds up his hands before digging into his pocket. 

Kristen deliberately cuts behind Johnny’s table and flicks her head toward the door, hoping he gets it. 

She’s leaning back against the building and taking a long drag when she hears a soft, “Hey,” to her left. Kristen turns her head towards him, her hat now sideways on her head to allow for the brick of the building. 

Johnny looks even better under the dim of the streetlights, his tan still visible under his open collar, jeans clinging to his thighs and ass, a Dolce and Gabbana designer tee hugging him in all the right places. 

“Hey,” Kristen says on an exhale, nodding in his direction. 

“I didnt know you smoked,” Johnny says conversationally.

“I recently quit,” Kristen replies, throwing him a challenging look. 

Johnny just leans back against the wall next to her, their shoulders not touching. She offers him a drag and he looks down at it before shrugging one shoulder. Kristen tries not to sneak a glance at him but fails pretty easily. It's as hot as she expected, his lips pursed around the filter before blowing out a perfect ring of smoke between them. 

“I never really did this,” he admits quietly. “My friends used to get busted in high school all the time but it was never my thing.”

“Pot was more your thing, eh?” She says, feeling a little loose suddenly, remembering that night on the beach, remembering – god, everything. Kristen's positive the only reason this suddenly feels comfortable is because of all the drinks in her system.

Johnny looks sheepish but nods. “Guess so. Less addicting, anyway.” 

Kristen laughs. "Yeah, well, I was one of the kids in the stairwell getting detention every few weeks."

Johnny turns his head from where he’s resting back against the brick to grin at her, his eyes crinkling. "You rebel.” 

Kristen scoffs. "Yeah that was the extent of it, man. I got perfect grades and didn't even cut class much."

Johnny shakes his head, a fond expression on his face. “I... You keep surprising me.”

Kristen frowns. “How so?”

Johnny waves at her body. "Your clothes, your hat, the way you talk. You're my boss, for christ’s sake, and I..."

A chill runs up her spine and she stands up a little straighter, gritting her teeth "Look, if you're gonna fucking say I don't act the part or I'm not quali– ”

“Oh my God,” Johnny cuts her off, voice raising as he talks. “I'm not! It has nothing to do with you being qualified, I'm trying to pay you a compliment! You're probably the coolest boss around and I fucking wish you weren't mine – but there you have it.” 

He's breathing a little hard by the time he's done, cheeks red, and Kristen supposes her friends were right: fight or fuck.

It doesn't help that she’d be into doing both.

Kristen turns to face him, leaning against the wall with her hip. “Why’s that?”

Johnny shoots her an unimpressed look. “Come on, you know why," he says, voice muted, like all his anger has been drained out of him just as fast as it came. “You’re really gonna make me say it?” 

“Because we fucked and you wanna keep fucking,” Kristen answers for him, voice flat as if she doesn't want that exact same thing.

Johnny looks at her impassively, eyes a little – sad, what the fuck – and shakes his head. "Because I was ready to try and date you even though I had no idea where you lived."

Kristen's mouth falls open at that and Johnny lets out a sharp laugh, dragging his hand over the back of his neck. "Jesus, I'm drunk and you're probably gonna fire me come Monday."

"I’m not," Kristen says softly, looking up and meeting his eyes, taking in how glassy and bloodshot they are, yet also completely naked with vulnerability. She can’t even begin to respond to what he just said so she opts for something still somewhat on topic. "Did you... does anyone know? About us?” 

Johnny shakes his head rapidly. "No, God, I wouldn't, no."

Kristen nods and tips her head against the wall, still trying to get her mind around Johnny wanting more than sex. "Thanks," she mumbles.

They stare at one another and Kristen's eyes fall to his mouth as he licks his lip. Before she knows it she's tugging him down by his shoulder and he's bracketing her against the wall, tilting her head up with one hand under her chin and fitting their mouths together, wet and perfect, while the brim of her hat digs into the side of his face. Kristen's mouth opens on a gasped breath. Johnny tastes like saké and cigarettes. Their tongues brush and tangle, Johnny’s hand pressed firm against Kristen’s hip as they kiss harder, deeper. It isn't until they start a slow, tight grind with their bodies that Kristen puts a hand on his chest and pushes lightly. Johnny drags their spit-slick mouths apart, breathing hard, and looks down at her, their faces still so close.

“We – fuck, we can't," Kristen breathes, her fingers tightening rhythmically on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny's pupils look as blown as hers feel.

She watches him swallow hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm sorry,” he says, stepping back a few inches but not before fixing her hat. It's a little gesture that shouldn't make her stomach flip.

Kristen shoves down the emotion and scoffs. “Pretty sure I kissed you, man,” and immediately winces. She's really gotta stop using slang with him. She's his _boss_. 

Johnny's smile is rueful and it doesn't meet his eyes. 

They settle back against the building, regaining their breath.

“This sucks,” Johnny says bluntly. 

Kristen silently agrees. “Look, uh. I don't just want to be your boss, okay? Let’s be honest, I’m kind of failing at that anyway.” 

Johnny turns to her sharply, eyes wide and childlike. 

Kristen smirks. “Calm down, tiger. I mean I'd like us to be friends, at least.”

“Friends,” Johnny repeats dully, disappointment evident. 

Kristen jostles him with her elbow. “Fuck you, I'm an awesome friend.” She's just honestly a terrible boss because my god, the way she's acting with him, kissing aside, just should really not be their dynamic. But whatever, it's the only way she can think to do this thing.

“Yeah?” Johnny says, a bit of a challenge in his voice, finally giving her a genuine smile like he gets it, that this is as good as it’s gonna get.

“Yeah,” Kristen says. “And you should be so lucky, since I'm still kinda pissed at you”

Johnny winces and looks down at his feet.

“I do form my own opinions, you know,” he says, voice low. “And just this week alone has shown me you know what you're doing, maybe more than you think you do. That Photoshopping thing – I meant to tell you – that was really impressive.”

Kristen reels a little at that but the thing is, he's right, and she's self-aware enough to finally admit the things both he and other people thought about her are things she's been thinking herself, since she took the job. It just.., had hurt more, made it real, hearing her own insecurities confirmed. And now to hear him say the opposite...

“You're right,” Kristen says tightly, looking across the street at a group of people leaving one of the bars. ”I mean, like, this job has definitely been fucking with my self-esteem. It was shitty to take it out on you.”

“It's okay,” Johnny says sincerely. She sort of wishes he wasn't such a good dude.

“So we're good?” Kristen asks, biting her lip and looking at him out or the corner of her eye.

“Yeah,” Johnny says on an exhale. “Yeah, we're good.”

She hears the unspoken 'as good as we can be' loud and clear.

“I should head back in,” Kristen says, flicking the cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with her toe. “Have fun.”

She heads in quickly before she does something idiotic like kiss him again or ask him to come home with her.

Later that night when Kristen's not as drunk but still drunk enough to not care, she sends Johnny an email with her phone number, simply saying _you might as well have this, for practical reasons at the very least._

Johnny responds back with his number and a message that says _even though you probably could've looked it up in my file._

 **I'm no stalker man** , Kristen texts him. 

Johnny's only response is **hey :)**

Kristen goes to sleep with a smile on her face and the only thing she regrets in the morning is the kiss.

“Control yourself, Stewart,” she tells her reflection in the bathroom mirror before getting ready to go for a run.  
_______________________________

Kristen soon learns that being friends with Johnny is no easy task,and that's not even entirely due to the attraction factor. No, as it turns out, Johnny doesn't see eye to eye with her on key elements of the next issue. This comes out in the meeting on Tuesday, wherein he was just supposed to be taking minutes yet Kristen catches his face twisting in a sour expression as he shakes his head while looking down at his notes.

She should just let it go, but she’s always been a fighter and a bit of an instigator. It comes with the territory when you have two older brothers. “Something you wish to share, Jonathan?"

Johnny’s head shoots up, muscle twitching in his jaw. "Uh,” he looks at her helplessly for a moment but Kristen just raises her eyebrow. He swallows hard. “Well, I'm just not sure I would lead with the Ford profile the month before New York fashion week.”

Kristen leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, trying to channel her mother. “And why's that?”

Johnny gives her a flat look that says 'really? You're doing this?’ but Kristen isn't about to back down. 

"Because I think our cover should be gearing up to fashion week specifically, in terms of what will be there. And we all know Ford is sitting this one out. There's been a lot of research done by the writers, myself included. The next issue after this one doesn't drop until after its already occurred, so it will be more of a reflection. I've been in touch with the New York office and they've got some great stuff that's been submitted for possible publication this month but– "

Johnny’s mouth snaps shut and he looks around the room, as if he's only just realized there's about ten other people listening to him.

“But what?” Kristen says, annoyance rising within her, but more so at the fact that fuck it, he isn't wrong. It’s not like his idea is some novel one, it’s just one she definitely missed in her excitement over scoring the Ford exclusive. 

“But you– ,” he starts and then cuts himself off. “They were in the emails I forwarded last week. I don’t know if you had time to read them or not.” 

Kristen taps her pen against the table, jaw working. She vaguely remembers seeing them, but that was during her ‘prove to Johnny I know what I’m doing’ phase so it’s very possible she only skimmed and moved on. 

“This meeting is adjourned,” she says to the room. “I’m going to speak with my assistant and we’ll reconvene tomorrow at 10am.” 

Kristen sits silently, staring at Johnny until the bustle of everyone collecting their things and leaving is complete. Johnny meets her gaze head on, chin jutted out as if he’s ready for a fight if she wants one. 

“Come show me these emails,” Kristen says, gesturing to her laptop in front of her. 

Johnny pushes back his chair and Kristen feels her mouth go dry at the sight of him, fine tailored suit and obscenely popped collar, walking towards her. Some days he can look like a little kid playing dress up but other days he just _works_ it. 

He pulls up a chair to sit beside her and Kristen gets a good whiff of his cologne, crisp and a little musky. His elbow brushes her own as he moves his fingers over the mouse pad and opens his own email. 

“See, these ones – this was a great photoshoot the New York office did for the latest Alexander Wang line. And we know that’s always a big selling point and there’s been a lot of discussion over what he’ll be premiering. And one of the writers scored an interview with Kenneth Cole. So that’d be a good thing to showcase. Here look, there’s – a few more options and some attachments. It’s important to tool things the right way, play to our strengths, use all the cards we have in a deck so another magazine doesn’t scoop us on something that’s timely and relevant.” 

Kristen thumbs through a few of the suggestions and the asshole is completely right. She may have an eye for fashion but this was the part that worried her – making these kinds of layout decisions.

“You’re right,” Kristen says finally. 

“I– wait, what?” 

Kristen has to stop herself from laughing at the way his eyebrows are knit in confusion, frown tugging at his lips. 

“You’re right, Johnny. I can admit when someone has a good idea.” 

“Oh,” he replies sheepishly. 

Kristen laughs and wants to nudge him with her shoulder but nope, not professional. 

“So how about we work on this and have something to present for tomorrow’s meeting,” Kristen says, more of an order than a request. 

“Sounds good,” Johnny grins and fuck if it doesn’t make her stomach tighten.  
_______________________________

They spend the next few hours going over an entire new layout for the next issue, broken into sections showcasing designers that will be there that they’ve done features on recently or have photo shoots with current lines. Johnny’s pretty damn good with layout shit in Photoshop (“I wasn’t always,” he admits) so Kristen just sits back and watches him do his thing. By the time they’re done the hallways are dark around them and Kristen’s stomach is growling. 

“Hey, all I’ve had since lunch was that candy bar you got from the vending machine. Dinner?” 

Johnny blinks at her, closing the laptop. “Uh. Really?” 

Kristen rolls her eyes, even though her stomach is jumping a little. “We said friends. Don’t friends grab a bite to eat?” 

Johnny nods. “Okay, that. Sounds good.” 

Kristen suggests a Moroccan place that’s within walking distance. They have happy hour during the week and it’s business casual, mostly corporate types coming in after work. 

“You’re really good at all that,” Kristen says when their drinks are placed in front of them. 

“Thanks,” Johnny says, sounding genuine rather than smug, like she’d been expecting. 

“How’d you get into this?” Kristen asks, sipping her beer before picking up the menu. 

Johnny’s silent and she peers over the top of the menu to see him tapping his fingers against his glass, looking thoughtful. He clears his throat when he catches her watching. “Uh, I dunno, I needed to major in something and had no idea what, so I chose communications. I wanted to go to school in the States and managed to get into NYU. Then uh, I got an internship at Kenneth Cole’s, doing like, PR and social media junk just because it was the best one there was, not that I even cared about fashion. Anyway, uh, they kept me on a second semester and I learned a lot, and also that maybe I wanted to – not do what I was going to school for. So I ended up transferring to FIT and taking a bunch of courses and actually enjoying it. My parents laughed about it because I always had the worst taste in clothes.” 

Kristen laughs. “Well, you’ve improved,” she says, nodding to his suit. 

She’s glad the waiter comes then, because Johnny’s blushing a little and that leads Kristen’s thoughts nowhere good. 

“Your grandfather was one of the best dressed men I’d ever met. I remember thinking ‘Wow, I hope I can still look that sharp at his age.” 

Kristen blinks. “You met him?” 

Johnny nods around the rim of his wine glass. “Yeah, he came into the New York office a lot. He always had a smile on his face.” 

Kristen feels tears swell in her eyes. She didn’t see him much these past few years. Just for the holidays and not always even then. 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Johnny’s saying hastily. 

Kristen rubs discreetly at her eyes beneath her glasses. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Johnny bites his lip. “You uh, wear contacts?” he says lamely, a clear attempt at a subject change. Kristen laughs so she supposes it works. 

“Yeah, dude. Normally. Eyes were hurting today.” 

“I didn’t notice. On the – ” he cuts himself off, like he’ll melt or something if he says the world ‘Island.’ 

Kristen shrugs, feeling her face heat a little. “I sleep with them in a lot. Uh, bad habit.” 

Johnny nods quickly and fuck, now she’s thinking about being in his bed and why is it that just when she thinks they’re making progress, something happens to make them regress? 

They’re saved by the busboy coming to refill their water glasses, Johnny breaking their gaze and picking at the tablecloth with his nail.

“So, how are you liking LA so far?” Kristen says, far too bright. 

Johnny winces a little but plays along. “It’s nice. Different. The company made it really easy for me, though. Found me a furnished place, hooked me up with a rental car until I can get one of my own. Never had one in the city.” 

“Wow. That’s… generous.” 

Johnny looks at her, a little curiously. “Well, your grandfather was a generous man. I think my boss at the New York office, especially, was just trying to follow in his footsteps. And well, your mom also approved it.” 

Kristen laughs, hard. “Yeah, no, doesn’t really sound like my mom.” She pauses for a second. “But it does sound like my grandpa.” 

Johnny’s smiling at her softly when they’re interrupted again, this time by their food. They’re mostly silent through the rest of dinner, just making random small talk about the city, the differences from New York, the gym Johnny just joined even though he’d said he was gonna do more things outdoors. . 

“I was in New York for a bit,” Kristen says over espresso. 

“Really?” Johnny replies, eyes widening. 

“Yeah, few months before I headed back here.” 

“Where ‘bouts?” 

“East Village.” 

Johnny goes still. “I uh. Lived off Houston.” 

Kristen nearly spills her coffee. “Um. Spring Street.” 

Johnny laughs, dragging his fingers through his hair. “It really is a small world, eh?” 

“You’re so cheesy,” Kristen complains but yeah, it really fucking is and she wonders if she ever took the A C E with him, wonders what she would’ve thought if she’d seen him in one of his tailored suits while she was dressed in ripped jeans and a Bowie shirt, lugging around her guitar and playing in coffee shops. She kind of misses that person, even though she knows she still exists, is just getting lost in the shuffle of the daily grind. 

They fall silent again after that and Kristen’s pretty sure they’re both thinking of the same things, imagining a reality that would’ve allowed them to meet in the city. Kristen doubts Johnny hung out at Bleecker Street Records or Le Poisson Rouge, though. Well, maybe that last one. Fact of the matter is, they probably would never have even talked if they hadn’t met in a place where people hook up with the kinds of people maybe they’d never be with otherwise, and if life hadn’t thrown Kristen a curveball. 

This time when the bill comes there are no funny games over who will pay as it’s pretty clear they’ll be paying for themselves. It’s weird that it now makes Kristen a little bitter and she really needs to pull herself together and accept the differences in their relationship now. 

They walk out of the restaurant and back towards the building’s parking garage. 

“This is me.” Johnny points to the black chevy rental. 

“Nice.”

“Yeah,” he replies, running his hand over the hood. “Might just end up leasing the same model.”

“I’m down that way.” Kristen points to the other end of the garage. 

“Cool, well.” Johnny looks behind him, like he’s considering walking her to her car or something. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” she says, and then winces. Again with the slang. 

Johnny doesn’t seem to notice though. He’s just smiling, lips quirked and eyes bright. 

“Night, Kristen.” 

Kristen ducks her head, smiling herself, not stopping until well after she’s in her car. 

_______________________________

The meeting the next day goes great, everyone pretty damn excited about the direction of the next issue. Kristen meanwhile goes to supervise an in-house photoshoot that they’re doing with a local designer for the next digital issue. It’s right up her alley, hip and chic but not haute couture. She sees Patrick Sharp down there, already modeling some jeans and a graphic tee and feels her face flush, even though Johnny swears he hasn’t said anything. 

“Alan, nice to see you,” she says to the designer, shaking his hand. 

“Pleasure is mine. Thanks for this, the exposure is gonna be great!” 

He’s a friend of CJ’s – or maybe more – Kristen can’t keep up with who CJ is or isn’t seeing anymore. All she knows is that if all goes well, she’ll make this a local series type thing on the site. Plus it will allow her to dabble in fashion that’s more her speed. Alan’s clothes are reasonably priced and so far he just has an Etsy shop for them, so if it gives him more exposure and the ability to officially get his line picked up, then everyone wins. 

Sharp nods at her and Kristen nods back, still feeling a little tense. She lets Alan do his thing and gives her advice on blocking and poses a few times. By the end of it, both Sharp and Jennifer, the other model, are laughing and saying what a great shoot it was. 

“Thanks, that was a blast,” Sharp is saying and Kristen’s looking down some of the stills on the camera that she doesn’t realize he’s talking to her. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah. You’re welcome.” 

He just smiles wider. “Really, it was nice to be relaxed for once. Usually everything is all top tier, as you probably know. This is a cool thing you’re doing.” 

Kristen smirks a little lopsidedly. “Well, glad you approve.” 

He just nods sincerely. “Hey, tell my boy Tazer he was right.” 

Kristen stills, stomach clenching. She’s not supposed to know who ‘Tazer’ is and luckily she covers quickly, asking, “Who?” 

“Oh, sorry: Jonathan,” Sharp says sheepishly. “He’ll know what I mean.” 

Kristen’s teeth clench. “Yeah, okay,” and turns away briskly, already feeling furious that Johnny lied to her. 

She manages to focus on the rest of the post-shoot stuff, going over some of the pictures and discussing logistical things with Alan before heading back upstairs. 

Kristen doesn’t necessarily stalk into Johnny’s office but she also doesn’t knock. 

“Woah, hi,” Johny says from behind his desk, sitting up straight, smiling a little until it slowly falls from his face, obviously reading how pissed she is. “Uh.” 

Kristen closes the door behind her and leans back against it. 

“Patrick Sharp wanted me to tell you you were right.” 

She watches as Johnny’s cheeks immediately pinken, and clenches her fingers in a fist. 

“You fucking asshole, you promised you didn’t say anything. “

Johnny’s eyes widen and he stands. “Woah, wait, I didn’t,” he says holding up his hand and stepping around the desk. 

Kristen’s eyes feel hooded, all the anger draining. She’s just – tired. Tired of going in fucking circles here. 

“Kristen, I didn’t,” Johnny says softly, voice so close it startles her. She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes. 

She opens them slowly, takes in his expression, that one that’s so earnest and honest. 

“No?” 

Johnny shakes his head. “I told him you were awesome, that you had great ideas. He’s friends with my buddy Adam back in the New York Office, was the one telling us stuff. I told him he was wrong.” 

Kristen slumps a little against the door and huffs out a breath. “Oh.” 

She feels stupid now, really stupid. 

Johnny’s frowning when she looks back up. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says quietly. 

Kristen nods quickly, mouth dry. “Yeah, I know– ” 

But Johnny’s shaking his head, eyes sad. “No, you don’t.” He drags a hand through his hair. “Look, I need to finish up some stuff– ” 

“Johnny– ” 

But he’s already turning back to his desk and staring determinedly at his computer. 

Kristen bites her lip and walks out, closing the door behind her. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. 

_______________________________

She doesn’t talk to Johnny for the rest of the day. There were no incoming calls in that time and she had no excuse to go in there. When she leaves for the night, the halls already dark around her, she sees the light coming through his door, even though the blinds are shut. 

Kristen steals herself and knocks. 

“Come in,” Johnny says, sounding annoyed. “Oh, it’s you,” he says when he sees her, and at least it’s not disgust in his voice, only resignation. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kristen says. 

Johnny waves expansively, typing with one hand. “It’s fine, just finishing up some emails. Did you need something?” 

He sounds curt and she hates it. 

“Uh, yeah, I needed to say I was a dick and uh, I’m sorry.” 

He looks up then, eyes softening. “It’s fine. I overreacted.” 

Kristen comes to stand in front of his desk. “Not really, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Johnny’s mouth quirks and he stands up as well, moving to stand beside her, resting his hip against the desk. 

“You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve actually never been one to kiss and tell.” 

Kristen stands a little straighter, suddenly full aware of their proximity. “Really?” she says archly, feeling a little breathless. 

“Yeah. Not exactly my thing.” 

Kristen nods, throat working, eyes on his biceps pulled tight beneath his crisp dress shirt, having shed his suit jacket over the chair behind her. She catches on his open collar, the bare skin still showing the barest hints of a tan. She wants to put her mouth there, feel the warmth bloom beneath her lips. 

When Kristen meets Johnny’s eyes he’s already staring at her, pupils large. 

“Johnny– ” she starts, not sure if it’s a plea or a warning or what. 

Johnny groans and ducks his head, pressing their lips together while his fingers splay wide on Kristen’s neck. 

Kristen gasps into the kiss, pressing up onto her tiptoes, the heels already cutting the height difference between them. Johnny’s other hand catches her around the waist, pressing firm against the small of her back. 

Their tongues meet at the same time, pushing into one another’s mouths with desperation, licking and moaning in the quiet stillness of the room. 

“Shit,” Johnny breathes, panting heavily as he breaks away, only to bury his face in Kristen’s neck, dragging his lips over her neck, pressing hot, wet kisses into her skin. 

Kristen pushes at him so he’s pressed against the desk, spreading her legs and dragging her thigh against the outline of his dick, hands squeezing his forearms. 

Johnny’s kissing down her neck, causing it to fall back, Kristen moaning at the feel of his lips, of the way his hands have moved to the front of her skirt, slipping beneath and slowly sliding up and down her inner thighs. 

“Oh my god,” Kristen gasps, so fucking wet already, wanting him inside her, his mouth, his dick, whatever she can fucking get. 

Johnny’s lips catch on her chin, nipping along her jaw and then Kristen’s fisting a hand in the hair at his nape and kissing him dirty and hard while Johnny’s hands tease the fuck out of her, sliding along the crease of her panties, her skirt rucked up around her waist while she straddles one of his thighs and pushes against him. 

Then his phone rings. His office phone. They break away with a gasp and Kristen jerks back to reality, realizing where they are, what they’re doing. Jesus Christ. 

Johnny clears his throat, removes his hands and drags his palms over his knees before answering. 

“Hello?” His voice is thick and everything about this is terrible. “Oh, right. Yeah, okay, I’ll uh, be right down.” 

Johnny hangs up and looks at Kristen guiltily. “That was Kaner – uh, Patrick Kane. I forgot I’m giving him a ride home tonight.” His words are hoarse, breathy, and Kristen wants to fuck him until he can’t even talk. 

“Sure, okay.” 

“Kristen,” Johnny starts, reaching for her but she steps back, straightens her skirt and her hair. 

“Momentary lapse,” Kristen says firmly. 

Johnny’s eyes dim and she watches his Adam’s apple work. “Right. Of course.”

“Goodnight,” Kristen says, feeling dazed, hurrying out of his office and down the hall. She wants nothing more than to get out of her suit and into her normal fucking clothes and just go out and lose herself. 

“Club?” she asks Suzie when she gets home. 

“Fuck yeah. I’ll round everyone up.” 

Alicia and Alannah want to go somewhere they don’t have to speculate on whether or not the women dig other women, so they head to a gay club in WestHo. Kristen’s kissed a few girls in her life but never gone much further, even though Alicia has offered plenty of times while they were drunk. Considering how horny she still is it’s probably for the best, being here, since she knows she’s not about to fuck a random woman while she might consider fucking a random dude. 

So she just chills with Suzie in the booth, dances a little, watches Alannah hookup within ten minutes and CJ grind on some dude with purple hair. 

“You’re in a funk,” Suzie says, head on her shoulder, when they’re sitting down again, Kristen’s white tank top a little damp with sweat. 

“Maybe,” Kristen admits, digging into her jeans for her phone. 

No messages. It’s for the best, probably. 

The thing is, she wants more than what almost happened in the office. She wants what would’ve happened on the island. A frantic fuck and then just curling up and talking about random shit. She wants to _talk_ to Johnny, to just hear stupid shit about his life and his interests and what he does after work.

“Ugh, text him already, you’re unbearable. “ 

Kristen scoffs and tosses her phone on the table, knocking back a shot. Three shots later, her phone is back in her hand. 

_im sorry about tonight_ she writes, not feeling very sober. 

The reply doesn’t come for like 15 minutes and Kristen’s already given up, nodding her head to the music and soaking up the haze of the alcohol that she doesn’t notice when Suzie is waving her phone in her face. 

_sorry, was working out. it was my fault. i need to keep reminding myself its not a possibility_

_im right there with you_ she replies. Figuring its a small admission that he deserves, to show she isn’t just blowing hot and cold on wanting him. She _always_ wants him. And she wants to say more, wants to fucking go to his house and watch a movie on his couch and just _be_. She wants everything, all of it, and it’s like her heart is going to beat out of her chest and explode if she doesn’t get it. 

_That helps, believe it or not_ , Johnny writes back and Kristen bites her lips so hard she tastes blood, knowing it’s all the alcohol in her that’s making her want to say shit she wouldn’t be able to take back.  
_______________________________

The next day she’s a little hungover and could kiss Johnny when he comes in and hands her coffee without being prompted. Except no, no kissing, right. 

“Lucky guess,” he shrugs when she raises her eyebrows at him. 

He looks stupidly good, rocking a little bit of stubble that transforms his face, makes him look a few years older. She felt a little of that last night, against her neck, saw faint red marks this morning. 

“Thanks,” she croaks, feeling the beginnings of a headache. 

“You ready for the department heads meeting today?” 

Kristen groans and pulls some advil out of her drawer to take with her coffee. “Ask me again in an hour.” 

Johnny laughs but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Wild night, eh?” 

“Not really,” Kristen says, holding his gaze, putting a little meaning into it. “What’d you do?” 

Johnny shrugs. “Played some Call of Duty. Called it an early night.” 

Kristen nods. She’s picturing him working out, getting the adrenaline out, taking a shower and jerking off, thinking about her, before curling up on his couch in a pair of sweats and shirtless. She swallows, her cheeks going hot. 

“I’m gonna– ” he says, and points behind him. 

Kristen blinks. “Sure. Thanks again.” 

She doesn’t actually watch his ass as he leaves and calls it a victory. 

At the meeting, Kristen tenses when her mom brings up the Photoshopping thing. 

“That was a bold move.” 

Kristen nods. “A necessary one.” 

Her mom hums and looks towards Ashley. “And you agree, Miss Benson?” 

“I do. Perfection isn’t the norm and shouldn’t be looked at it as such.” 

“Very well. Now to the latest issue– it’s pretty inspired, Kristen.” 

“Thanks. We worked hard on it.” 

“You and Jonathan, correct?” 

Kristen feels heat rise to her face. “Yeah. It was mostly his idea, honestly.” 

Her mom sits back and taps her pen on the table. “Well, then that brings us to the next course of business, which is Fashion Week. And given what you just said, I want you to take Jonathan along with you.”

Kristen feels her mouth drop open. “Uh– ” 

“The two of you make a good team. Scope out the runways, come back with ideas. Jonathan should plan on writing a few coverage pieces himself. And we’ll send Brooke for some interviews. Obviously some people from the New York office will attend as well.” 

“Okay,” Kristen says helplessly, trying to wrap her mind around another week with Johnny. In a hotel. 

Her life is some parody of itself. 

Kristen stops in Johnny’s doorway on the way to her office. “Get packing, buddy, we’re going to Fashion Week.” 

Johnny knocks over the cup with pens in it on his desk. “Huh?” he says, blindly gathering the pens back up. “You mean you’re going.” 

“Nope. My mom’s still got seniority here. What she says goes.” 

“Plus, she’s your mom,” Johnny says, dully. 

Kristen laughs, scratching at her neck. “Yeah, plus that. You impressed her with the issue. Nice job.” 

Johnny’s nodding but he looks as far away as Kristen feels. “Yeah,” he replies vaguely. “Uh. When I booked the rooms, it was only for you and Brooke…” 

Shit. 

Kristen’s nerves must be showing on her face because Johnny winces. “Let me make some calls, see what else is available.” 

“Sure,” Kristen says, hoping he can work something out. All the hotels book up like crazy this time of year. 

Johnny calls her about fifteen minutes later. “So, I booked another room, but it’s, uh, well all they had was one that’s attached to yours. There’s a door, obviously, but it’s a shared bathroom that connects the rooms.”

“They still have shit like that?” 

She can hear his shrug. “It’s a vintage hotel. It’s fine, Brooke can take that room.” 

“Don’t be silly. It’s - fine, Johnny. No big deal.” Because they should be able to handle something as dumb as this. They’re friends, or at least trying to be. 

“Alright,” he replies, sounding a little winded. 

Kristen has to wonder just what she’s gotten herself into and if maybe she’s just some sort of masochist.  
_______________________________

The rest of the week seems to fly by and before Kristen knows it they’re on a plane, with Brooke between them and Kristen trying not look at Johnny’s bare arms and his huge thighs. Kristen loses herself in some cheesy 80s love songs and a book, while Johnny talks to Brooke, all small talk and politeness with an ease she envies. 

Kristen doesn’t feel like doing much when they get in, would just rather settle down and go over her notes and schedule for the week. Kristen had been pretty excited about Fashion Week. Nervous, too, of course, but this was something she always loved. She went a few times with her grandpa when she was younger, remembered how it seemed everyone stopped to say hello to him and by extension her. 

“Do you need my help with anything?” Johnny asks after she tells him her game plan. 

“Nah, man, you already emailed me all my appointments and the lineup. I just need to prep.” 

“Man,” Brooke parrots, smirking.

“What?” Kristen asks, unable to help how defensive it sounds. 

She laughs. “Nothing, it's just everyone said you were all impersonal and standoffish when you first started and well, I'm not really seeing that.”

Kristen doesn't comment but she's glad she stopped trying to be something she isn't, just because she thought it wouldn't get her respect. She remembers when she told her parents she was leaving college just before her senior year, remembers yelling, “I can’t be anyone else than myself, man,” in their living room. She’d been doing a pretty good job of pretending recently, but it was time to stop that. 

“Anyway, I’m hitting the bar,” Brooke says and Johnny laughs, watching her as she goes. 

Kristen feels a coiling inside her, something that twists around her stomach and grips hard. 

“You should go, too,” Kristen nods after Brooke. “Unwind and shit. Gotta be a long week.” 

Johnny turns back to her, head tilted. “I’m good. Just gonna head up to the room.” 

They take the elevator together, their luggage already having been brought up. Kristen rests her heel against the wall, knee bent, sneaking looks at Johnny who is sneaking looks right back. 

He laughs, but it sounds a little nervous. 

“What?” Kristen says, smiling a little. 

“Nothing,” Johnny replies, mouth tugged up in a grin. He glances at her again, almost sheepish this time, and shrugs both shoulders. “You look good.” 

It sends a stupid thrill through her, which is less want and more just – content. She _likes_ this dude, more than she’s liked anyone in a long time. 

“Thanks, I didn’t try,” Kristen says, dry as fuck and adjusting the rim of her baseball hat. 

Johnny laughs and she thinks maybe she could live in the sound. 

Once settled, Kristen orders room service, maps out her itinerary in her iPhone, reads up on all the designers and what they’re showcasing and only thinks about Johnny when she hears the shower go on. 

_we need to coordinate this bathroom thing_ Kristen texts him, trying not to think about how he’s naked and wet right now. 

_lets lock each others door from the inside when we’re in there_ is Johnny’s response long moments later when the water’s been turned off. 

_sounds like a plan_ Kristen types back. It’s a while before she falls asleep. 

_______________________________

Kristen doesn't see Johnny much at the start of the week and when she does they can't exactly talk, too busy taking in the latest fashions and rubbing elbows with celebrities the few times they’re actually in the front row, which is surreal. When she went with her grandpa back in the day she sat with her mom. Was never in the front row. The three of them split up to catch all the showcases they can, and sometimes overlap for the main shows like Wang, Kors, and Miu Miu. Kristen makes a point to go to the Chanel show and loves the minimalist barn approach Lagerfeld is going for. She goes to meet him after and is surprised when he remembers her. 

“I’d never forget William’s pride and joy,” he says, kissing her cheeks. 

Kristen’s heart clenches. 

“The show was wonderful,” she says. “Gramps would’ve loved it.” 

Karl laughs. “I’m sure he would’ve had _something_ to say about it. Never shy, that man.” 

Kristen feels a fond smile form before she can control it. 

“And look at you, all grown up and running the show.” 

Kristen snorts. “Something like that.”

“Never would have guessed the girl in the tennis shoes and baggy jeans would find her way into high fashion. You always did seem to love the shows, though.” 

Kristen nods, stomach twisting with something she can’t name. 

“I always thought maybe you would be a model. You have the look for it.” 

Kristen laughs incredulously. “You mean patently bored and disinterested?” 

Karl’s grin in return is positively shark-like. “That’s the one.” 

He gives her his card and tells her to keep in touch. Kristen keeps that little interaction to herself. Brooke has a bunch of interviews lined up while Johnny hobnobs with the media, so in the meantime Kristen gets to know people from the New York office. She meets Johnny's boss, Charlize, who is gorgeous and put together and really on top of her shit. They go out to dinner Wednesday night while Johnny catches up with some of his friends at a nearby bar.

“How are you enjoying the week so far?” 

“It’s great,” says Kristen. “I’ve always loved going to fashion shows, from when I was younger and my grandpa took me, you know? That part was always really fucking cool. Just – I love experiencing it. The music, the lights, the energy.” Kristen knows, as she pauses to take a sip of her beer, that she’s falling into one of her rambles but she can’t help it. It’s the way she gets when she’s really into something. Charlize doesn’t look like she minds, is just smiling a little, interested. “And well, when you see a good show, it’s almost like watching history, you know? It's like you are watching something that is like lightning in a bottle, you know they hit something. I think it almost isn’t about the clothes anymore, to a degree, by that point. It's about watching it as a whole, watching the story unfold.”

Charlize nods. “I know what you mean. I saw McQueen’s ‘It’s Only a Game’ in person. I’d barely be able to describe one dress to you now but I’ll never forget the energy in that room and the way it all looked.” 

“Oh, man, that’s so fucking sweet!” Kristen exclaims, dragging a hand through her hair. “I’d have killed to see that live.” 

Charlize laughs. “You seem all about the way things are put together, the aesthetic, rather than the content.” 

Kristen shrugs. “I like clothes as much as the next person…” she trails off though, not knowing what else to say. It’s true, what Charlize is saying. If she truly loved the full package, she’d have followed in the family business. She just – loves the way certain things can make her feel. She’d felt it during Karl’s show and a little during some others. She kind of loses herself in the experience as a whole, like she does a song or a concert. 

Kristen’s saved from saying more as their food is placed before them. They’re silent for a few moments as they begin to eat. 

“Jonathan speaks rather highly of you,” Charlize says around her wine glass.

Kristen blinks at the subject change, not sure if she’s grateful or not. It’s not as though talking about Johnny is an easy subject for her either. “Yeah?”

“He says you've got some great ideas you're applying. Can’t stop raving about your Photoshopping stance. I’ve had people buzzing about it to me all week. It’s a huge stepping stone in the business.”

“I guess,” Kristen mutters around her beer. She really doesn’t know how to respond to Johnny randomly mentioning her. “One of the writers is going to put an article about it up on the website and we’re going to have a statement about it in the next issue.” 

“That’s wonderful, Kristen. Truly. It’s about time someone take a stance against that.” 

Kristen tries not to blush, looking off to the side, taking in the atmosphere of the restaurant and the corporate types around them. It’s totally not her scene. 

“Anyway, Jonathan was a great asset to the office. I was sorry to see him go.” 

“Yeah,” Kristen nods, turning back to Charlize, dragging a hand through her hair. “I mean, shit, he's got a lot of ideas too. I'm just…”

Charlize peers at her curiously. “Just what?”

“Just trying to keep my head above water,” Kristen admits on a shaky breath.

“Talk to me,” Charlize says, sitting back and absolutely serious.

So Kristen does, tells her the day to day things that worry her, tells her the CEO part is almost easier because all she really has to do is report to the board and talk about general company shit while the editor position is the company’s face, its essence. Talks about how she does love haute couture but she'll never embody it, Karl’s comment swirling around in her head for the past day. 

Charlize laughs at that. "Trust me, I feel more comfortable in a pair of ratty jeans too, but I sort of – grew into this," she waves at her impeccable suit, the diamonds that she dons on her ears and neck and wrist. 

"I don't really want to grow into that," Kristen admits bluntly and it surprises her as much as Charlize, so much so that she has to close her mouth audibly after she says it. 

“Then maybe you have some thinking to do,” Charlize replies, levelly, and yeah. She does. 

“Jonathan wanted your job, you know.” 

Kristen’s head snaps up. “Huh?” 

Charlize dabs at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “After your grandfather passed no one knew what was going to happen. A few people expressed interest in the editor-in-chief position; Jonathan was one of them. He knew he couldn’t really move higher where he was and well – he likes being in charge of things, it seems to be in his nature.”

“Yeah,” Kristen says faintly, thinking of the way Johnny always takes control of meetings before they start, the way he makes sure Kristen’s appointments are always on time, the way he argues with the web design team over layouts when Kristen is too burnt out to do it herself. 

“So he was obviously disappointed when he didn’t get it, but he still wanted the transfer, wanted more responsibility than simply sitting behind a desk and doling out copy. Like I said, I was sad to see him go, but it seems like he’s doing well.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Kristen knew some of it; a more executive role is something her mom had said that first day, but she had no idea he’d submitted his application for the position and that her mom made him her assistant instead. Johnny’s attitude over Kristen’s placement suddenly makes perfect sense – resentment at being the assistant to someone with no experience, all at the hands of nepotism, when he had a real stake in her job. She wonders if Johnny even knows it was in her grandfather’s will or not. 

Charlize leans one elbow on the table. “I’m telling you so you know there are people who would kill for your position. And so that should motivate you, but it’s up to you which way you take it.” 

Kristen doesn’t really know what to say, her mind racing in a million directions. She’s grateful when the waiter comes and Charlize asks for the check. 

The talk with Charlize makes her feel both better and worse and she spends the rest of the night laying on her bed, chugging a southern comfort from the mini bar and having an existential crisis, while also thinking about Johnny. She gets up to piss and brush her teeth, feeling a little fuzzy, and that's gotta be why she didn't hear the shower until she's already opened the door. Because yep, there's Johnny's silhouette behind the sheer curtain and that's definitely a hand on his dick. Kristen feels gut punched with lust, leans back against the wall and just stares for a moment, wondering what he's thinking of, if it's her, if it's one of the many models he's talked to the past few days. She bites her lip and leaves quietly, flopping back down onto her bed and covering her hand over her eyes. 

The next day is kind of slow and Johnny and Brooke are around for most of it until the evening when it's time for dinner. 

“You guys wanna grab something?” Kristen offers, figuring she can treat them to a bite somewhere. Seems like a nice boss thing to do. 

“Thanks, but I’m meeting up with a buddy,” Brooke says, pulling her hair behind her ears and waving. “You two have fun,” she says slyly with a wink and Kristen can't even begin to process that.

“Does she think– ?” Kristen says dully, not even really addressing Johnny but he answers anyway. 

“Brooke thinks everyone is screwing. It's the reporter in her.”

Kristen rolls her eyes and looks at Johnny. They're both dressed pretty casual today and she loves the way he looks in just jeans and his button down plaid. Kristen's rocking a tank top and some flannel, which makes her think of that first night on the beach. 

“Still want to go to dinner?”

“Yeah, sounds good. There's a diner nearby.”

Johnny makes a face. 

“What? You too good for diners?”

He huffs out a breath. “No, I just. Let me find something?”

Kristen shrugs one shoulder. “Whatever, man.”

“I just – have something in mind,” Johnny admits and they head out to the fancy car service the company got for them, while Johnny whispers the destination to the driver. 

“So secretive,” Kristen says reprovingly. 

Johnny just smiles smugly. “This is odd, I never really drove in cars when I lived here.”

“Me neither,” Kristen admits.

Johnny leans back against the seat, spreading his thighs a little. “My first week in the city was a nightmare. I hated all the people, all the smells. The pigeons were a terror.”

Kristen barks out laughter. “‘The pigeons were a terror.’ Do you hear yourself? You sound like an uncool dad." 

Johnny frowns and nudges her with his elbow. "Fuck off." 

"Be nice, I'm still your boss,” Kristen reminds, leaning her head back against the seat as well and grinning.

"Yeah, but we’re friends too, right? I’m not always nice to my friends.” 

"Asshole," Kristen replies, but her breath feels a little short and she's just – happy. That they can be this easy with one another. It seems to come in waves but she'll take what she can get. 

"Yep," Johnny replies cheerfully. 

Their destination appears to be Serendipity. 

“I've never been here, it always seemed too touristy.”

“I haven't either,” Johnny admits. “My ex wanted to go after we watched the movie, but we broke up before we could.”

“How ironic,” Kristen replies snarkily.

There are no tables to be had, as expected, so they wander into Dylan's Candy Bar and eat their weight in sugar before being called. The place is small and cute, not as loud as she expected. 

“So why here?” Kristen asks when they've got their frozen hot chocolates in front of them. 

Johnny seems to flush a little. “It seemed like... A good fit. Like, it's clearly aware of itself, that it's chic while trying not to be chic, that it's a little hipstery while trying to be anything but,” he trails off and ducks his head. “I dunno, I guess it reminds me a little of you.”

“Fuck you,” Kristen says immediately before grinning. She looks around and yeah, she can see that. Except – “I’m completely un-chic, though. Like, I almost just packed t-shirts for this whole thing. But, I dunno, maybe that’s my thing.” 

Johnny nods. “Yeah, like. Well it’s like this place – it knows itself, what it's trying to do and what it isn't.”

Kristen frowns. "Well. Like, I know a few people our age that have a pretty strong sense of self, but – I wouldn't say I can put myself completely in a box and present it, you know? I just – don’t totally know myself yet.”

The thing is, she wonders if Johnny knows her more than she knows herself, in this short period of time that they’ve orbited each other. That maybe she's too close, not able to see herself clearly after playing a role for so long recently. And that's... both exhilarating and scary all at once. Her mind returns to Charlize’s words the night before, how she needs to make some decisions. 

“Thanks,” Kristen says later when she's spearing her striped ravioli onto her fork while Johnny tells her about his adventures celebrity spotting at the bar last night, “For bringing me here.”

He looks up from his plate and smiles. “I'm glad I never went with my ex.”

It feels a little romantic, like a date and yeah, she's glad he never did either.

They get separate checks and Johnny buys some of the frozen hot chocolate mix to go. He tries to be stealthy about it but Kristen catches him when he comes out of the bathroom and he looks like a kid who just got his hand caught in a cookie jar. It's ridiculous.

“Like I care what junk you put in your body,” Kristen says, rolling her eyes. 

“I care,” he mumbles pitifully. 

Kristen snorts. “Apparently not.” 

He glares at her the whole way out the door and up the steps to the street. 

“Hey, you wanna catch a movie? There's a theater right here.”

“Why not?” She loves going to the movies and hasn’t been since she started the job. In fact she has no idea what's even out.

The theater is playing a cliched drama, an indie rom-com and a horror flick that looks horrible. Obviously Kristen wants to see the latter and they spend at least 15 minutes arguing about it, which includes Johnny looking all three movies up on Rotten Tomatoes which is ridiculous when it comes to horror flicks.

“Dude, like a fifty on there is decent for the genre and in case you didn't realize, I'm not looking for quality.”

His face twists and he puts his hand on his hip, staring down at his phone helplessly. It's so hilarious Kristen almost wants to just argue the rest of the night and ditch the film completely. 

Johnny digs into his pocket and pulls out a nickel. “We flip for it,” he says decisively. 

It makes Kristen's heart lurch a little, that he's keeping up with her tradition, even though he doesn't know it reminds her of her grandpa.

“Okay, loser,” she says, betraying nothing. 

Kristen wins and raises her arms in victory while Johnny grumbles beside her.

He's actually tense in the theater and spills popcorn on her during a moment when the killer bursts out of a closet with a knife.

“Sorry,” he whispers and Kristen just throws the popcorn at his head, stupidly charmed.

It's a dumb movie but fun and even Johnny seems to enjoy it in the end.

They take the subway back, since it’s too cold to walk and stupid to make the car service come back. They stand in the center of the car with their hands nearly touching on the pole between them, talking about the week so far and which designers have impressed them the most. 

“This was fun,” Johnny says when they're at Kristen's door.

“It was.” She smiles up at him, loving how loose and relaxed he looks.

“My turn tomorrow,” Kristen says before she can think better of it.

Johnny’s eyes widen a little but he nods. “You’re on,” he says softly.  
_______________________________

Kristen knows exactly here she wants to go and after a day of note taking and front rows in designer clothes she's ready to put on a loose shirt, some leggings and Converse and roll. They take the ‘1’ down to the Christopher Street station. 

“Our old stomping grounds,” Johnny says delightedly and the fact that he says dumb shit like that just makes Kristen like him more. 

“Yep,” Kristen says, leading them up and towards Hudson street. 

Johnny blinks when they arrive. “Uh, we’re going to a psychic?”

Kristen bites her lip to keep from laughing. This was totally worth it. 

They walk inside and the place is dark and gaudy with a fortune teller sitting there, waving them back. Kristen nods and Johnny keeps shooting her looks until she opens the door which leads to the hidden speakeasy. 

“Oh my god,” Johnny says, and Kristen laughs at his wide-eyed expression. 

“Cool, huh?” Kristen says as the hostess comes up to them. 

“Welcome, folks. Dinner or drinks at the bar?” 

“Dinner,” Kristen says and they follow her to one of the candle-lit tables that have cushioned seats against the wall. 

“Be my guest,” Jonathan waves at the booth and Kristen sits while he takes the chair. She watches as he takes in the high windows, the darkness of the room shrouded in soft, gold glows. 

“This is pretty fucking awesome,” Johnny says. “How’d you find it?” 

“One of my friends knew all the hidden shit in the city. We went everywhere. There’s actually a ton of speakeasies, man. Your city experience was lacking.” 

Johnny’s mouth curves upward. “Clearly,” he says soft yet with an intent and when their eyes meet it’s like a jolt of electricity in the space between them. 

Kristen has a great time at dinner. They drink a lot, talk even more, in low whispers between the flame of the candle, soaking up the atmosphere and learning even more about one another. Kristen keeps expecting the conversations to drop off, the topics to get boring but Johnny continues to surprise her.

“What’d you get up to, when you lived here?” 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Crack, meth, hustling.” 

Johnny snorts his Mata Hari up his nose and Kristen doubles over as much as she can in the small space between the booth and the table. 

“I hate you,” he mutters, wiping at his face with a napkin. 

“You just make it all so easy,” she grins, feeling pretty damn good, halfway through her second Provençal. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Johnny glares, “I meant work-wise.” 

“Wasn’t here for that long, crashed with a friend for about six months before Gramps died.” 

Johnny nods, eyes softening. 

“I taught guitar lessons. Started doing it in London at this shop. Really loved it so I just put out Craigslist ads and soon I had a bunch of clients. Aside from that, worked at a bar for a bit, off Bleecker, and that coffee shop over on Sullivan. 

“Geez,” Johnny says. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, just. I know exactly which shop you mean. I practically lived in it while at NYU.”

“Best espresso in all five boroughs,” Kristen says approvingly. 

“Damn straight. Got me through some killer finals.” 

Johnny’s smiling at her a little funny before he tears his gaze away, mouth snapping shut. 

“What?” Kristen asks again. 

“Just wondering again. If I ever saw you at any point, well after that.” 

“I dunno, man.” 

“I feel like I would have remembered you,” Johnny says sincerely and Kristen’s glad it’s pretty dark in here because she’s definitely blushing now, god damn him. 

They’re silent for a few moments. “Um, look, I want to–” Johnny starts, before cutting himself off. “I just wanted to say I nearly told you so many times on vacation that I was moving to California. Obviously I didn’t know where you lived and it’s a big state, but. But I figured you didn’t want to know. It was all about escaping, right?” 

Kristen nods, feeling a little numb. It’s what she told him, but she was an idiot. They should’ve said more. They probably could’ve – well, they could’ve avoided a lot of stupid drama.

“My grandpa– he left me the company in his will. I don’t know if you knew that,” Kristen blurts out, because he’s sharing and she feels like she should give something back. 

Johnny’s eyes widen a little, surprised, but apparently not at the news, since he says, “I did. Uh, but not until that first week. Thanks, though. For telling me.” 

Kristen nods, chewing on the inside of her lip, feeling like some sort of weight is lifted. She's a little hazy from the alcohol by the time the check comes and tells herself it's why she doesn't fight with him when he says he's got it. That may not be Kristen's way of acknowledging a date but she knows for Johnny it still is and well, she can't be made to care right now. Or maybe she just doesn't. 

“I think you win,” Johnny says when they venture back out onto Hudson, cold brutal air slapping them in the face, a few snow flurries beginning to fall.

“Of course I do, dude,” Kristen says smugly, bumping his hip. 

“Ugh and I think I'm already spoiled by California weather.”

Kristen laughs. “Yeah? Canadian boy like yourself?”

“There's something to be said for wearing shorts in February.”

“Damn straight, buddy.”

Their shoulders brush together as they walk, Johnny pulling on a beige toque and looking stupidly adorable in it while Kristen just pulls up her hood. 

“Too cold for just a hoodie,” Johnny chastises. 

“Sorry, Dad,” Kristen retorts, loving the way his face scrunches up in horror. 

“Yeah, no, never say that again.” 

Kristen laughs, tilting her face skyward, cold breath fanning in front of her. 

She sits in the subway car because motion isn't her friend right now and Johnny sits right down beside her. Kristen smiles up at him, feeling relaxed and happy and taking in his dopey expression that he gets when he's a little buzzed.

She lets herself press against his side, feels him stiffen for a moment before he slowly drapes an arm around her shoulder. Kristen looks up at him again, nerves hitting her hard, chewing on her lip. They shouldn't do this again, shouldn't keep moving backwards when there's no real way to go forward, but Johnny's smiling softly down at her, reaching an arm over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and yeah, Kristen can't really help when she catches it, lacing their fingers together.

Now it's Johnny's turn to look nervous, panic flashing in his eyes before clearing. Kristen watches him swallow hard.

“You, uh,” Johnny starts but Kristen just shakes her head.

“Shut up and kiss me, man.”

Johnny does.  
_______________________________

They make out in the subway, angled into one another, hands sliding over shoulders and down arms, feverishly. It's the kind of display Kristen would normally be gagging with her friends over but tonight she can't begin to care.

Johnny's panting shallowly against her mouth by the time their stop arrives and Kristen nips at his bottom lip as they get up, his hand finding hers immediately.

They walk quickly to the hotel, keeping their faces down and Johnny lets go of her hand before they get inside; Kristen's glad she didn't have to pull away first. She even manages not to jump him in the empty elevator, but just barely.

“Your room,” Kristen says, voice rough and then she laughs when Johnny drops the key card not once but twice

“Smooth,” she deadpans and then squeaks when spins on his heel and lifts her off the ground and into a deep kiss. 

Kristen groans and drags her hands up, pulling off his toque and tossing it aside, fingers carding through his hair while he squeezes her ass, hitching her higher as her legs immediately wrap around him.

He backs them up to the door rather than towards the bed, which seems counterproductive but whatever. Johnny holds her up with one hand wrapped around her waist, the other coming up to pull down her hood and drag his nails across her scalp, making her shiver as he traces his thumb across the nape of her neck, his mouth hot and slick beneath her own, suckling her tongue until she groans, breathing hard through her nose and needing to break away just to regain some oxygen. Johnny’s lips don’t go far, sliding against her jaw, teeth nipping in sharp drags. 

“Bed,” she gasps out. Any other time and she’d be fine with doing it right here, him fucking her into the hard frame of the door until her back aches with it and her thighs burn but she’d like to be horizontal tonight or she just may puke. “Dizzy,” she admits. 

Johnny pulls back and frowns at her before walking them backwards and gently lowering her onto the mattress, before following. She shrugs off his jacket, wet with moisture from outside. He rubs his thumb against her collarbone. “Are you drunk?” he whispers, eyes a little distant. 

“Huh? No, just buzzed, man.” 

Johnny nods, expression clearing. “Good,” he says, barely audible, and leans to kiss her, so slow and thorough that Kristen keens from it, arching her back slightly and wrapping one leg around his waist. “Don’t want this happening because we’re too drunk to know better.”

She feels the hot press of his dick against her thigh and feels herself grow even wetter, wanting him inside her again so fucking bad she’s almost shaking with it. 

“It isn’t,” she promises because yeah, it still shouldn’t be happening but the dude needs to know how much she’s wanted this, how she hasn’t _stopped_ wanting this in the six weeks they’ve worked together. 

She pulls Johnny back down to her, bodies tight together, a slow grind as they kiss even harder, desperate, slick, wet mouths and the plush push of tongues that swallow one another’s loud moans and breathless gasps. They undress one another quickly, Johnny letting out a curse and filling his hands with Kristen’s breasts as soon as her bra is off, pressing his face between them and just licking and kissing her everywhere. 

“Fuck, man,” Kristen moans, head thrown back, eyes drifting closed. She’s so fucking wet and locks her legs around his back, heels pushing against his ass.

Kristen rolls them over and straddles his legs before gripping his dick, heavy and thick in her palm before sucking him down, curling her tongue down the underside while he lets out a low whine, whispering her name reverently before sliding both hands in her hair and pressing up a little. Kristen moans, sucking harder and dragging her hands flat across his thighs, urging him on. 

Johnny fucks her mouth while she moves one hand to her clit, teasing herself in slow circles and pressing her pussy down against his thigh, rocking. 

“Fuck, I need you,” Johnny bites out, voice strained. “Want to feel you around me, need, oh _god_ ,” Johnny cries out when she pulls off and swirls her tongue around the head, tonguing the slit while pre-come hits her tongue, salty and sudden. 

“Come on,” Kristen groans, kicking her legs out from under her and wrapping them around his back, so they’re seated, facing one another, his dick jutting against the inner crease of her thigh. 

Johnny leans forward and catches her lips, flicking his tongue out to lick shallowly into her mouth, dirty and hot, tasting himself. Palms drag up and down her back while she presses her own fingers into the cords of his neck. 

“Oh fuck,” Johnny pulls back, blinking down at her. “I don’t have a condom.” 

“Seriously?” Kristen replies, unimpressed. 

Johnny flushes. “I uh, was trying not to be presumptuous.” 

“I thought you said it was _hopeful_ ,” Kristen taunts.

“Yeah, well. Either way, I don’t.” 

“Neither do I,” Kristen sighs. 

“I could go– ”

Kristen surges forward, biting at his mouth and jacking his dick between their bodies, fingers catching along the tight, velvety skin of his shaft, still slick from her lips. “I’m on the pill,” she whispers against his mouth. “You clean?” 

She feels Johnny nod, hears the quick intake of breath between them. “I, uh. Had a check-up before vacation and,” he ducks his face to mouth at her neck, voice quiet. “Well, there hasn’t been anyone else, since you.” His words are slow and measured. 

Kristen can barely process that admission; whether it means everything or nothing at all. She exhales shakily and swipes her tongue against his earlobe. “So just do it, man.” 

“God, you – ” Johnny breathes, voice full of wonder and staring at Kristen like he’s seeing her for the first time, before fisting both hands in her hair and pulling her forward so her tits are against his chest, their mouths meeting again, this time the pace brutal, her lips already feeling raw. 

Johnny reaches between them, covers Kristen’s hand on his dick with his own and shifts them so he can get lined up, the two of them guiding him inside her by the base. It’s one of the most intimate things Kristen’s ever experienced, the way he sinks into her easily because she’s so fucking wet, the way their hands never part until he’s in to the hilt and even then they only move to wrap their arms around each other. They start a slow push and pull, barely moving, just rocking into one another, mouths finding one another again but gentler this time, lazy. It’s like a switch was flipped, all the desperation dissipating as soon as Johnny got inside her. She curves her palms down the expanse of Johnny’s back, squeezing the swell of his ass as his own hands curve around her waist, pulling her forward so she’s seated between his thighs fully, and up to her tits. 

Kristen gasps as he thumbs both her nipples in time with the circular undulations of his hips, loving the way the pressure the position puts on her clit, how it’s just the right twist of his body to light her up inside, making her clench around him until he’s gasping. His mouth finds her neck, sucking gently, soothing it over with his tongue like he’s thinking about how they have to be out in public tomorrow, front and center in the fashion world where hickies would be kind of tacky. 

They speed it up and slow it down for what feels like hours, driving one another crazy, hair damp and bodies drenched, Johnny wringing her first orgasm out of her on a surprised gasp, and her second when she’s so blissed out already she can barely cry out during it, just squeezes her pussy around his dick until he tips her backwards on the bed, buries his face in her neck and gasps out curses as he spills inside her, body tensing and breathing shallow. 

Kristen moans softly as he collapses against her, hands weakly stroking his skin, his hair, feeling his dick still pulsing. 

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groans, voice thick, before kissing her shoulder, her neck, and pulling out slowly. Kristen feels it inside her, feels him already seeping out a little and it’s been so long since she’s felt that, can’t say she exactly misses it but also loves being that connected. 

Still. 

“Be right back,” she whispers, lips finding his shoulder blindly before going to the bathroom, pissing and wiping a few more times than would be normally necessary. Dumb romance movies conveniently forget shit like this, she thinks as she returns to the bedroom, smirking a little at what Johnny’d say to that. Probably wrinkle up his nose. 

Johnny’s got his eyes closed, sated expression on his face. He opens them when Kristen drops onto the bed. 

“Mmm, you good?” he murmurs, reaching for her. 

“Yeah,” Kristen sighs, pressing herself against him, shivering as he mouths kisses along her shoulder blade. 

“What are we doing?” Johnny asks quietly after a few moments. 

Kristen opens her eyes and blinks, unfocused. She can’t see Johnny’s face from the way it’s curved against her neck. “Can we just, not answer that right now?”

“Alright,” Johnny says softly but she can hear the frown in his voice. “Do you wanna stay?”

Kristen bites her lip. She shouldn’t. “Yeah. Just set the alarm for early.” 

“You’re the boss,” Johnny says dryly, his tongue dragging, pointed and slick, along her throat. Kristen gasps into it, wanting him again already, unsure of how she’ll be able to give this up once more.  
_______________________________

Kristen wakes up with her face mashed against Johnny’s chest and one contact half falling out. 

“Ugh,” she groans, blinking and physically putting it back in. Johnny moans softly and tightens his hand around Kristen’s waist, pressing an absent kiss against her hair. 

Kristen freezes a little, at how natural the move felt, at how easy Johnny’s barely awake psyche performed it. She knows the second he rouses to full awakeness, can hear the change in his breathing, feel the increase in his heart rate against her ear. 

“Hey,” he says, voice scratchy and thick with sleep. “Good morning.” 

“Hey,” Kristen says, pulling back to look up at him. 

She hates how good he looks, hates the way a half smile pulls at his lips, hates the way his skin is a little flushed. 

“How’d you sleep?” 

Kristen drags the back of her hand up his chest, feeling it dip beneath her touch. “Alright,” she says slowly, the word feeling heavy on her tongue. She feels more uneasy than she ever has with him, unable to read the way he’s looking at her, like it’s some sort of mixture of hope and already settled resignation.

“I, uh. I need to go. I’ll see you at breakfast,” Kristen says, blinking rapidly, eyes still too dry. She blindly pulls on her clothes, listens to the wrestling of the sheets as Johnny moves around yet doesn’t say anything to stop her. She hears a heavy sigh, though, and she books it out of there before she can make herself look at him, to see the way she keeps fucking this dude up when it’s the last thing she wants to do. 

Back in her room she showers and takes in the red marks on her throat and neck from Johnny’s stubble. There’s nothing that screams ‘hickey’ but she still opts for a turtleneck she’d bought specifically for the trip, knowing it would be cold anyway. 

Johnny’s already downstairs, sitting with Brooke and Charlize when Kristen makes her way into the hotel’s restaurant. It’s all buffet set up and she fumbles with the fruit and oatmeal, wondering if she can just go sit somewhere else, shaking her head at how high school it all feels suddenly. 

Johnny raises his eyebrows a little when he spots her turtleneck and then she watches his cheeks grow pink. So great, now they’re both thinking about his mouth on her skin and Kristen wants to both run away and sit on his dick. 

“Morning!” Brooke says cheerfully. Kristen grunts. 

“Hey. Hello, Charlize,” she says politely and nods to Johnny.

Johnny pours her a cup of coffee and Kristen groans her thanks. 

“What a good assistant,” Charlize drawls mirthfully and Kristen tries not to choke. 

“That’s what they pay me the big bucks for,” Johnny deadpans and Kristen resigns herself to thinking about double meanings for the rest of her life. 

The rest of breakfast passes uneventfully, and then they all trek to the Marc Jacobs show. Kristen’s hyper aware of Johnny’s knee against her own, the seats always so fucking close so as to pack in as many people as possible. They sneak a few glances at one another and Kristen couldn’t read his face if she wanted to. He’s in complete concentration mode, taking a ton of mental notes in his head clearly, getting ready to talk about what they’re seeing directly after the show, but there’s something beneath the static too. Kristen wants to crack him open, see what makes him tick. 

They have a few meetings after, targeting the designers they want to highlight and meeting with their publicity people. Johnny does a good job laying the groundwork but Kristen definitely seals most of the deals and by the end of each meeting he’s grinning at her like a fool. 

By the end of the day, Kristen just wants to get out of her damn turtleneck and into something comfortable. 

“Charlize and Brooke are hanging at the hotel bar with some other people from the New York office, if you want to go?” Johnny says as they’re walking towards the elevators. 

“Don’t think so, but you should go ahead.” 

Something dims in his eyes. “I don’t– I mean, I don’t need to.” 

Suddenly all the air is sucked out of the room, just by the gaze he’s pinning on her, dark and intense. 

The elevator dings and they’re still standing there, not moving. 

“Actually, uh, there’s something I needed to show you in my room,” Kristen says, clearing her throat, loving the way Johnny’s eyes flare. 

They don’t even make it to the bed, even though it’s only a few feet from the spot they land on the floor. Johnny goes down on her like he’s starving for it, tongue flicking at her clit and darting inside her pussy pointed and hard and with an edge of desperation, moaning against her thighs and making Kristen come so hard her entire body lifts off the ground and she nearly kicks him in the head, making them both hiccup with breathless laughter. Then she strips him and pushes him onto his back, fucking herself onto his dick. 

“Oh fuck, _Johnny_ ,” Kristen pants against his lips, her breasts pressed against his chest, before lacing their fingers together, raising their arms so they’re resting on either side of Johnny’s head, palms slippery. 

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers, and her breath catches in her throat as she comes again, Johnny’s thighs tensing beneath her weight as he follows. Their fingers remain locked together for long moments after as they lay there, gasping in the quiet of the room, Kristen’s heart stuttering in her chest. 

Their mouths find one another, kissing lazily, before they stumble into bed to do it all over again. They don’t talk about it.  
_______________________________

They still haven’t talked about it by the time they’re on the plane going home. Kristen knows she’s the one who put that rule into effect but it’s making her anxious as fuck. Especially since she doesn’t have an answer. Nothing has changed; in fact, everything is even worse. Because if anything, this second “vacation” has made her realize the first time wasn’t just a fluke. It wasn’t some island fling or even some forbidden office attraction. It’s way more than sex, is the problem. She wants to be around this guy, wants to learn all the things he loves and all the things he hates and make his face crack open in genuine smiles. When she left him on the island she wasn’t ready for a long distance relationship plus a new job. Now that they’ve taken the distance out of the equation, now that she knows she _can_ do this job, if she wants to, well – it changes things but it doesn’t make their current situation much different. 

Kristen forgot her car wasn’t at the airport so they’re all standing at the taxi stand. 

“We could share,” Johnny suggests. 

“I’m all the way the fuck out West,” Brooke says. 

“I’m near Los Feliz,” Kristen replies and Johnny turns to her. 

“Um, I’m near there as well.” 

Brooke bounces on the balls of her feet. “Great! You two share,” she says brightly before ducking into the next cab. 

Kristen groans. No way she doesn’t know. 

Johnny looks at her a little shyly. “That cool with you?” 

“Sure,” Kristen replies. 

Johnny lugs their luggage into the trunk himself, even though the cabbie insists and Kristen realizes how far gone she is when stupid innocuous gestures like that make her chest flutter. 

They’re silent on the ride to Kristen’s house, the tension palpable. Kristen knows he’s gonna say something, ask something, and there’s still no good answer to give him, not when her brain is going a million miles an hour. 

“This is me,” Kristen pipes up when they approach her apartment building. 

“I’ll help you with your bag,” Johnny says and Kristen doesn’t argue. He carries it up to her walk, not because he has to and honestly, delaying the inevitable is just dumb. 

“So uh,” Johnny says, when they're on her front porch. “Do you need help getting this in?” 

Kristen shakes her head slowly. “We’re on the first floor. Uh, me and my friend Suzie. Did I tell you that?” 

Johnny scratches the back of his neck. She can see his hand shaking. “You may have, um. I don’t recall now.” 

Their eyes meet again and he bites his lip. “I had a great time,” he says softly and she knows he doesn’t mean the trip in general.

She shakes her head sadly, looking out towards the taxi for a moment before training her gaze back on him. “I – fuck, Johnny,” she says miserably, feeling like she’s been kicked in the gut yet she’s the one doing the kicking.

She feels her own lip tremble as his face falls, looking down quickly, shoulders sagging. 

“You don't have to say anything,” he says, voice hard, “think you’ve answered my question,” before turning and walking back to the cab. 

Kristen stands there, unable to argue. She stares out at the street for long moments, well after the cab’s disappeared.  
_______________________________

The next week is pretty damn tense, with Johnny being professional and cordial, but not much else. Kristen hates that she brought them back to this point single-handedly, hates that when he looks at her she can see the layer of hurt beneath the mask he’s trying to wear. 

She goes out with her friends Wednesday night, tries to shake it off but she just ends up with her head on CJ’s shoulder, confessing everything.

“Girl, you were way beyond fight or fuck at this point. You shouldn’t have fucked unless you were all in.” 

“I am,” Kristen murmurs against his shirt. He smells good. “I’m in, man. I’m as fucking in as you can be.” 

“Then you gotta tell him that,” CJ says. “That this isn’t your choice, really.” 

Kristen stills, sitting up straight. Because – well, it’s not true is the thing. It is her choice. The whole – fuck, the whole _thing_ is a choice she has, not some web she’s trying to claw her way out of. And when did she stop realizing she had options? When did she succumb to life being something she accepts rather than experiences?  
“I gotta go,” Kristen says, fumbling her way out of the bar and into a cab. It’s a good thing she doesn’t know where Johnny lives or she’d probably do something dumb like go to his place and hold her iPod up in a poor Lloyd Dobler impersonation. 

When Kristen’s at home, lying in bed and having her second existential crisis in so many weeks, she thinks about texting Johnny. Except everything she’d offer up just feels cheap, and worse, like it’d be a tease. Kristen knows what she wants, she just doesn’t know how to get it at this moment. 

_______________________________

Kristen has a board meeting the next day back, going over the outcome of fashion week and what exclusive spreads they were able to nail down for the 3rd quarter. Everyone is pretty impressed at what she was able to accomplish, given most of the industry’s lack of experience making deals with her and she’s feeling pretty damn good about it by the time the meeting is adjourned. 

“Lunch?” her mom asks, coming to stand beside her. “I feel like I see you less now than when you lived in London.” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

“You did great back there,” her mom says while they’re sitting at a Greek place across the street. “And in New York. Seriously, honey.” 

Kristen nods, averting her eyes. Praise has never been something she’s been good at accepting, least of all from her parents when she’s been trained to expect the opposite. 

“How are the boys?” Kristen asks instead of replying. 

Her mom smirks in that way of hers that says ‘you don’t fool me but I’ll let it go’ “How about you call and ask them yourself?” 

Kristen snorts. “Fat chance.” Kristen takes a sip of her seltzer. “They haven’t spoken to me since the reading of the will. Probably still pissed.” 

“They weren’t pissed,” her mom argues. “They were concerned.” 

“Yeah, that I’m the one making the six figure salary.” 

Her mom’s face hardens. “You know that isn’t true. They were around the business a lot more than you, though. And they always cared about it and I think they just want the same out of you.” 

“Yeah, well.” Kristen bites her lip, pausing. “I care.”

“I know you do, you’ve proven that,” her mom is saying, but Kristen’s not through, and suddenly her heart is pounding in her chest. 

“I care, Mom, but being an editor, running – running a magazine, it isn’t who I am.”

Her mom stares at her, setting down her napkin. “Who are you, then?” 

Kristen shakes her head. “I think I’m still figuring that out. But I know what I’m not.” 

“You’re good at it,” her mom insists and in that moment she can see it – see that she believes in her, maybe she always has. Maybe it’s why she was so hard on her about leaving school, about pulling away. Maybe Kristen never was the black sheep – maybe she was the one they saw the most in. 

She finds it difficult to think over the pounding of her pulse. “I– thanks,” she says, honestly, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. “Mom, _thanks_.” 

Her mom covers her hand with her own and squeezes. “I love you, baby. I know I’ve been hard on you in the past, but I just want you to be happy. Maybe I thought I knew what would make you so, I don’t know.” 

Kristen smiles wistfully, looking down at their hands. “Yeah. I get it.” She links their hands together and exhales slowly. “Hey, uh. The board. They like me?” 

Her mom laughs. “Yes, Kristen, they like you. Revenue is up 10% after last issue.” 

Kristen thinks about Johnny, how much he had to do with, how he has to do with a lot. She thinks about what Charlize said, what CJ said. She thinks about _choices_. 

“What if, uh. What if I just kept on in the CEO position?” 

Her mom regards her. “Is that something you want?” 

She worries at her bottom lip. “Yeah. I mean, I can do a ton of that remotely. It’s not like I need to oversee the day-to-day operations like the editor role.” 

Her mom nods. “True.”

Kristen feels her stomach twist, nerves settling hard, her lip trembling a little. “I don’t– I don’t wanna let you or Dad down,” she says, words hushed, meeting her mom’s gaze, eyes prickling again. “I don’t wanna be a disappointment. “

Her mom’s eyes soften and maybe glaze over a little herself. “Oh, baby, you’re not. You never were. We just thought you could do anything…”

“And I didn’t really want to do anything,” Kristen finishes for her, voice rueful. 

Her mom shrugs, smile a little regretful. 

“I want to do this, but. But not just this.” Kristen rubs at her eyes a little, wiping away the moisture and gulps down some seltzer. “Let me, uh, think about it a little more, okay?” 

Her mom nods slowly and they eat the food they’ve been ignoring the last few minutes. 

“As CEO, um, what’s the deal with inter-office relationships?” Kristen asks a little while later, when they’re waiting for the check and she no longer feels like she’s about to break down in public.

Her mom quirks an eyebrow. “Well, obviously dating a board member or shareholder would be conflict of interest, as you technically report to them.” 

Kristen feels her cheeks flame. “No, uh, I’m not. It’s just a hypothetical.”

“A hypothetical,” her mom responds flatly, knowing full well Kristen doesn’t waste her time with idle questions or conversations. 

“Yeah, uh, rumors out of Fashion Week. Seems the CEO of Allure might be interested in one of the photographers. Just curious.” She barely keeps from wincing at her own awful lie. 

Her mom laughs. “And are you planning to leak a scandal to the tabs? Doesn’t sound like my daughter.” 

Kristen glares, cheeks still feeling hot. “ _No_ , ugh. Just, you know, curious.” 

Her mom is eyeing her like she doesn’t buy any of this for one second, but honestly, they’ve already had enough admissions for one afternoon. Kristen’s isn’t exactly ready to say ‘and uh, I banged the shit out of my assistant while on the vacation you told me to take and I maybe wanna keep doing him for as long as he’ll let me.’ 

“Well, the answer is: if it’s just another staff member it probably isn’t an issue. At least, not at our company. I can’t speak for others.” 

Kristen swallows, feeling like a live wire. “Cool,” she chokes out. “Like, good to know.”  
_______________________________

The next day there’s a problem with the website and the IT people spend all day trying to get it up and running. Kristen’s running around, checking on the web design team and the writers to make sure everything is ready when the site is back up, since a ton of top looks and designers to look out for lists from fashion week were supposed to premiere today. By the end of the day she’s a tense mess and wants nothing more than to just climb into a hot bath. It didn’t help that she saw Johnny laughing by the elevators with the same woman she saw him with that first night at the bar. Kristen doesn’t think she works there, but she could also be one of the freelance models. She ignored them both as she left, not one of her best moments but she just needed to get out of there, already too frazzled by the day’s events. 

It isn’t until she’s walking in her door that she realizes she doesn’t have her phone. 

“You gotta be shitting me,” she mutters, trying to retrace her steps. She was literally in every department under the sun today. 

Kristen’s debating on whether or not she should still just take the bath she’s craving or head back to the office now. She really, really doesn’t feel like driving back. If Suzie were here she’d make her take them and then they could go get a drink or something. 

Kristen sighs, grabs her baseball cap and flips it on backwards, already in casual attire since it’s Friday (she got quite a few high fives for her Joy Division shirt). Kristen’s just stepped outside when she sees a figure walking onto the grass. 

It’s Johnny.

“Uh,” she says, nearly tripping down the steps. 

They stand on the grass, looking at one another. Johnny’s wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans but he still looks like he stepped out of her own magazine. 

“You forgot your phone,” he says, holding it out to her. “Sharpy found it down in the studio.” 

“Right, cool. Thanks,” she says, taking it, their fingers brushing. 

“So, I’ll go. Since it looks like you were leaving.” 

Kristen snorts, shaking her head. “Was heading back to the office to look for this, man,” she says, waving her phone at him before shoving it into her pocket. 

“Ah, right,” Johnny replies awkwardly, dragging his hand across his cheek. 

“Sorry for ruining your plans, though,” Kristen says before she can stop herself. 

Johnny’s eyes narrow. “What plans?” 

Kristen shrugs. “Look liked you were getting ready to leave with that woman, earlier.” 

“That– Abby?” Johnny asks, sounding amused, like he’s laughing at Kristen. She grinds her teeth. 

“I assume so,” she grits out.

Johnny laughs again but this time it sounds hollow. “Abby is Sharpy’s wife. We were waiting for him to finish up, and then he came with your phone.” 

“Oh,” Kristen replies dumbly. “Well, whatever, it’s not my business,” she says, voice steady, trying for some conviction. 

Johnny sighs, long and suffering. ”What isn’t your business, Kristen.” It’s barely a question. It’s like he’s just tolerating her, at this point. 

Kristen feels hot all over, anger curling in her belly. “It’s not my fucking business if you date,” she practically yells, the words cutting her deep, sticking in her throat. 

“Isn’t it,” replies Johnny, voice tight with barely constrained anger of his own. 

“I'm your boss,” she says firmly and Johnny's eyes flash.

“Yeah well, what if you weren't.” The words roll off his tongue, like he just suggested a restaurant for lunch. Kristen’s whole body freezes. 

“What are you saying?” she asks slowly. 

Johnny averts his eyes for a moment, smirking a little self-deprecatingly before turning to her again. “You apparently talked me up pretty good during Fashion Week. I was offered a job. At the Paris Vogue.”

Kristen feels the wind knocked out of her. “And when, exactly, were you going to tell me that.”

“I'm telling you now.”

“Fuck you, you know what I mean. I. Jesus, as my _assitant_ , aside from everything else, you owed me that.”

“I probably wouldn't have,” Johnny admits. “I didn't even strongly consider it until this moment.”

Kristen feels a chill run down her spine. “So that's how it is,” she says numbly. “We either date or you move halfway across the world.”

“What? No!” Johnny's eyes widen and all the anger and tension seems to drain away from him in that instant. “Jesus no, this isn't some ultimatum,” he says, voice emphatic. “I'm saying – fuck, Kristen, I’m saying I'd take the job if it meant I get to have something with you, even a highly implausible long distance relationship.”

Kristen stares at him, dumbfounded. “That's not a reason to uphaul your life again.”

Johnny shrugs, but his stance is anything but nonchalant. “I think everyone deserves one choice in their life where they’re thinking with their heart rather than their head.”

“With their—” Kristen gulps, mind racing. “You've been watching too many rom-com’s again, buddy.”

“Maybe,” Johnny admits. “Or maybe I’ve been falling in love with you since the day we met.” 

Kristen’s eyes widen; she feels her pulse and stomach jump all at once. “Jesus, Johnny,” she says faintly and can do nothing but stare as he pulls out a quarter from his pocket. 

“Heads I go, tails I stay.”

Kristen shakes her head, a little sadly. “I knew you'd use this to make a significant life decision one day.”

“I guess I'm just predictable,” Johnny says, stone faced. 

Kristen regards him and then looks down at the coin. “It was my grandpa’s thing.” 

“What was?”

“The coin flip. He used it all the time on me and my brothers when we were younger.” She pauses, staring behind Johnny's head. “One day, we were at the beach, just the two of us, and he told me he once got an offer to merge with Vogue. To become one huge company. He didn’t know what to do and everyone's advice just confused him more so he took a coin and said he'd do whatever it said. Obviously you know what happened. He said he didn't regret it.”

Johnny's staring at her when their eyes meet again. “Pretty big life choice,” he says softly yet pointed.

Kristen blows out a breath. “Yeah. As I got older, I started thinking how fucking dumb that was. You can't... you can't put your life in the hands of chance like that, man." Kristen drags her hand over her face and laughs, shakily. "Fuck. For all I know, that's how he picked who’d run the company when he was gone."

Johnny steps up to her and wraps his fingers around her wrist, squeezing. "He chose you because he believed in you.”

Kristen swallows and looks up at him, sees how much he believes the words, how much _he_ believes in her. Kristen doesn’t need it though, anymore. She doesn’t need the validation. Maybe it’s time she believed in someone else. She reaches for his other hand, swiping the coin and holding it up in front of her. 

“Heads I step down as editor-in-chief, tails I give you the position.”

Johnny's eyes widen. “What? No! Also that's cheating,” he says, voice indignant. 

“I've already been thinking about it, dude.” She's still aware of his hand around her wrist, the warm press of his fingertips lighting her up inside and out. “Been thinking about it since New York. Even ran it by my mom.”

Johnny's still shaking his head. “But you're... you're good at it.”

Kristen shrugs. “Yeah, maybe I am. Maybe it's someone I could be, eventually. But it's not right now.” 

Johnny’s still frowning. 

“Look, I'd stay on as CEO, go to the meetings, keep the shareholders happy, take in a paycheck I don't deserve, because I love Gramps and want to do right but him.” Kristen pauses for a moment. “But shit, I miss teaching guitar to awkward teenage girls and I miss playing in hipster coffee shops and maybe I miss school, too. Or hell, maybe I’ll call up Karl Lagerfeld and become the new fucking face of Chanel.”

Johnny’s lips quirk as he looks at her quizzically and Kristen feels her own smile start to grow. 

“Whatever I do, I just gotta be myself, man,” she finishes, fully aware of the irony of this moment, that the last time she said that was when she was _leaving_ school, not possibly considering going back. 

Johnny smiles down at her dumbly and strokes his fingers along the top of her wrist. 

Kristen shivers. “And uh, you wouldn't exactly be under my direct command, with me just as CEO. So.”

She watches him nod slowly, swallowing.

"You're really... I mean, you're sure? You're not just doing this for me?”

Kristen scoffs, rolling her eyes hard. "Fuck, man, I'm not that romantic. You must be confusing me with you." 

He scowls down at her and Kristen grins brightly, pulling him down by his forearms until their foreheads are resting together. 

“No, Johnny,” she whispers, seriously, heart beating like a drum inside her chest. “I'm doing this for me. You're just a nice bonus.”

She feels his punched out laughter fan across her cheek, can see the dimples forming in his smile just before he cups her face with both hands and brings their mouths together, slow and chaste, like their first kiss all over again but somehow a million times better.

“I’m glad I don’t have to go Europe just to be with you,” Johnny sighs breathlessly, kissing along her jaw, up to her ear. 

Kristen laughs. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he says seriously. “The French can be unbearable.” 

Kristen giggles even more, trailing off into a gasp as he tugs on her earlobe, making her shiver. “ _You’re_ French.”

“French-Canadian,” Johnny corrects, his breath ghosting across her neck as he kisses his way back down towards her mouth. 

“Uh-huh, _so_ much better,” Kristen deadpans before stepping onto her tip toes and pressing their lips together, hard and wanting, wrapping her arms around Johnny’s neck and licking into the heat of his mouth. They stay like that, wrapped up in one another, kissing until Kristen's jaw is aching and her lips are raw. 

“Uh,” Kristen says, pulling back and looking around. “We're still on my lawn, you know.”

Johnny's mouth is slick and his face is flushed. “Uh, oops?” Kristen laughs and takes him by the hand. 

“Come on, my roommate isn't home.”

Johnny waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly and Kristen giggles. 

“Shit, I can’t believe we have my mom to thank for this,” Kristen groans as they walk up the stairs to her apartment.

Johnny laughs. “I'll send her a fruit basket.”

“Yeah, you do that, buddy,” Kristen deadpans. “Spring for some Godiva, eh, that’s more her speed.” 

Johnny presses her against her front door in retaliation, kissing her until her knees are literally weak. 

“Same, you know, about the first day we met thing,” Kristen gasps when he’s pressing a string of kisses down her neck. 

“Now who’s the romantic,” Johnny snorts, but his voice is warm and stupidly happy. 

Kristen groans. “Whatever, it’s still cheesy as hell.” 

“Whatever,” Johnny mocks, but he’s smiling down at her like she’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. Kristen kisses him again, both to shut him up and to escape that look that is making her feel way too many fucking things right now. And yeah, maybe she still doesn't know exactly where she's going, or what she'll end up doing in the long run, but she knows who she wants to do it with and she knows she'll wake up every morning remaining as true to herself as she can be. 

It's what her grandpa probably would've wanted, when all is said and done. 

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the quotes re: fashion were lifted verbatim from recent KStew Chanel interviews. 
> 
> A few people have mentioned certain time stamps they've wanted to see for some of the 'verses with this pairing, in prior comments. So if there's anything you'd like, for any story, just drop me a line and I'll see what I can do. And feel free to hang out with me on [tumblr](http://monalisasnmadhatters.tumblr.com) where there's lots of kstew and hockey and other randomness.


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